


A Fallen Star That Shines No More

by jwdish98



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Parents, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Louis, Cute Kids, Famous Harry, Fluff and Angst, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Non-Famous Louis, Past Relationship(s), Power Bottom Louis, Single Parent Louis, Stubborn Louis, Top Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-15
Updated: 2016-04-15
Packaged: 2018-06-02 07:09:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6556702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jwdish98/pseuds/jwdish98
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis might have a problem.</p><p>Said problem lies entirely in the fact that he can't seem to avoid Harry Styles, The Ex-Boyfriend That Broke His Heart and World Famous Popstar Sensation. Everything is only made more complicated by the fact that he doesn't really want to avoid Harry either, even though they're supposed to mean nothing to each other. </p><p>Another tiny problem may also be that Harry has no idea that Louis has a daughter now.</p><p>Yeah, he's screwed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Fallen Star That Shines No More

**Author's Note:**

  * For [outtacuppa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/outtacuppa/gifts).



> Hello everyone! Thank you so much for clicking on this work. I hope you enjoy. This was a really lovely story to write, and I'm quite proud of it and all the work I put into it, so I'm very pleased to share it with all of you and to be able to claim it as mine now!
> 
> I'd also like to take a quick second to thank my two lovely betas, Dana and Tish, for reading this over for me. You two are amazing and I love you! <3

Louis has become kind of an expert at ignoring his problems.

It’s something he prides himself on, actually, and, surprisingly, it’s worked fairly well for most of his adult life.

And okay, maybe Louis has way too many things that he just pretends didn’t happen-- he absolutely was not involved in the ruin of Mrs. Jameson’s petunias, nor was he directly responsible for the missing fish incident, obviously-- but, really, he’s become pretty fucking ace at pretending by now. It’s a part of his life. A simple fact about him. Just like the fact that he needs air to breathe. He can cook a solid seven proper meals. Harmony gets up way too early every morning.

Louis pretends that his life isn’t as empty as it feels like it is.

He pretends that his two best friends and their disgusting relationship is enough for him. He pretends that he doesn’t feel like something is missing every time he holds Harmony and thinks about how she got her name.

And he’s actually fucking ace at it.

It’s also maybe why he’s currently sitting oh-so-casually in his living room, pretending that his phone isn’t buzzing incessantly and that he can’t see Zayn’s scowl lighting up his screen. He’s pretending, still, and he’s going to pretend until he can’t any longer. Which hopefully won’t be anytime soon. Probably.

A crash startles him away from his Buzzing Phone Of Impending Doom, and Louis quirks an eyebrow upwards. “Harm,” He calls, watching with an amused smile as his daughter comes tumbling down the stairs, a wide grin on her face, her hair sticking up at bizarre angles.

Harmony beams up at him, flailing her arms about, and even though there’s no way they would ever be related, Louis think he can see the Harry in her, regardless of the impossibility.

He’s desperate. It’s pathetic.

“Papa,” she hums cheerfully. The grin on his face widens and he reaches a hand out to her, eyes crinkling around the edges.

“Hello, my darling love.” He pokes her nose. She giggles. Everything is okay, for just a second, and Louis isn’t pretending anymore. It’s kind of lovely. Harmony’s kind of lovely. “Did you break something? I don’t have to go clean up your mess again, do I?”

Harmony pokes him back, giggling to herself. “No mess,” she clarifies. “No. Buzz buzz.”

Louis purses his lips. “Buzz buzz?” He asks. “What’s buzzin’ then, love?”

Harmony squirms in his lap and snatches his phone from the table, tapping animatedly at the screen. “Buzz buzz!” She giggles, wiggling around in his hold.

“Yeah, love.” His voice sounds unbearably fond. If it were anyone else, Louis would declare the scene disgusting, but it’s him and his daughter, so it’s perfect. “My phone is buzzing, isn’t it?”

“I answer,” Harmony declares, and taps at the phone wildly before Louis can stop her.

So much for ignoring Zayn.

Sighing, Louis smacks a kiss on Harmony’s nose. Her skin is surprisingly not disgustingly dirty or sticky, and Louis thanks whatever higher power he can think of for that fact. “Thanks, love. I appreciate it. You’re a right good helper, aren’t you?”

Harmony giggles wildly, her sticky hands-- ah, there’s the gross stuff-- moving over his cheeks and patting them carefully. She's always been a rather curious child, and Louis has found over the past few years that anything on her hands often ends up on his face. If it wasn’t so bloody endearing, he’d probably be more annoyed about it. It’s always been too cute for him to really mind, however.

“Louis?” Zayn’s voice filters up from the speakers. Louis makes a face, but raises his phone up. Harmony moves to the couch cushion next to him and accidentally smacks him in the face in the process.

“Hey, mate. Uh. What’s up?”

Casual. Nice. _Good one, Louis._

“You only answered because Harmony picked up your phone, didn’t you?” Zayn’s voice is colored with his amused-but-so-done tone that only he can really accomplish. It’s actually impressive. If Louis thought he’d be able to pull off that tone of voice, he would ask Zayn to teach him how to do it. Right now, though, that tone of voice just has his stomach twisting in knots.

Fuck.

“No.” Louis scoffs. “Why would I be ignoring you?”

He’s casually ignoring the fact that there’s probably a really massive list of good reasons for him to not be answering Zayn’s call. Plausible deniability will only work if he doesn’t think about the fuck-ups he’s made recently. Zayn's always been kind of scarily good at reading his mind anyways. Louis can’t give anything away or else he’s fucked.

Zayn makes a weird noise that’s filtered with static. It might be a laugh. It might also be the sound of anger and frustration. Louis isn’t entirely sure. He’s not even sure he wants to know which one it was. “Maybe because you got super drunk and tried to snog my boyfriend last night?” Zayn tries.

“Fuu-- uh... udge,” Louis whines.

“Or maybe it’s because after Liam told you that he wouldn’t snog you, you proceeded to crawl on his lap and cry about, er, you-know-who for an hour.”

“Stop it.” Louis figures his face is probably bright red, and Harmony has decided that smacking him with the pillow she found next to her is a great idea. She’s an absolute menace. (He loves her.) “Can we just not talk about any of that ever again? Please.”

Silence comes down the line and Louis is starting to wonder if Zayn has hung up on him-- which, okay, how _rude_ would that be?-- when Zayn suddenly asks, “Are we not talking about the hitting on my boyfriend or the sobbing over your ex? Please clarify.”

Louis makes a really pathetic noise. The sort of noise that he’d be embarrassed about anyone actually hearing him make, kind of thing. Harmony giggles wildly and claps her hands like it’s the best thing she’s ever heard.

“All of it. Literally every single second of it. Please don’t mention it ever again, and just... Find a way to make Liam forget about it or something.”

Zayn snorts. “He told me he was almost tempted to go along with it and snog you.”

“Probably because of my fabulous _ass_ ets,” Louis declares proudly.

There’s another horribly long silence before Zayn grumbles, “I can’t believe you just made that joke. Fuck off.” Louis is about to come up with another-- probably awful-- thing to say when Zayn hums quietly and interrupts him. “I actually called you for a reason, though.”

Louis arches an eyebrow, fingers drumming casually on his leg. Harmony has taken to jabbing her sticky finger into his arm, so he turns and makes a funny face at her. She falls into a fit of giggles and Louis mentally high-fives himself for his brilliant distraction.

“What is it, then?”

“Um.” Zayn clears his throat. “Yeah, no. We’re going to talk about this in person.”

That gets Louis’ attention really quickly.

He coughs nervously. “That bad, huh?”

Zayn stays silent, but it’s enough of an answer. “I can be at your flat with Harm in twenty minutes,” Louis offers quietly. “I should, uh, probably apologize to Liam as well. I think I kind of scared the shit out of him.”

Zayn snorts, and Louis can already picture the grin that’s brightening up his face. “He came home and cried, actually.”

Louis stifles a laugh and declares, “My life’s goal has been achieved, then.”

“Get your arse over here,” Zayn replies, snorting out a quiet laugh. Louis grumbles quietly, but hangs up the phone.

Harmony has climbed off of the couch and is currently spinning in circles around the room, careening left and right, and Louis bites on his bottom lip to keep from laughing. She’s adorable, so, so lovely, and Louis can’t help but smile whenever he takes a moment to stop and look at her. There’s nothing more beautiful in his world than Harmony Tomlinson, and he kind of doubts there ever would be.

Harry Styles might have been a close second, once upon a time, but that time of his life is long past now.

(He ignores the part of him that screams that Harry will always be absolutely beautiful, the most beautiful person on the planet. No matter what, Harry Styles will always be beautiful.)

It takes an excessively long time to get Harmony to put her shoes on-- she seems to have inherited his distaste for footwear, and it often takes them at least six minutes to leave the house, with him spending at least half of that coercing her into putting her tiny pair of white shoes on-- and then a few more minutes to direct her out the door and wrestle her into the car.

Once Harmony is strapped into her seat, Louis slides into the driver’s seat, humming quietly to himself. He flicks on the radio absentmindedly, and almost crashes the car as he makes a left turn when he realizes what song is playing on the radio.

“No,” he breathes quietly. “Absolutely not. No.” Harmony giggles quietly, clapping her hands. “‘Livia!” She cheers quietly.

Louis kind of wants to throw up. Just a little bit. Or a whole fucking lot, actually. It’s too warm in the car, now, the sunshine too hot on his skin, and Harmony’s pleased giggles are messing with his insides, because he’d normally be _happy_ about anything that makes her laugh like this, but he really just wants to cry right now.

“Yeah,” Louis agrees. “Olivia, huh? How do you even know this song, Harm?”

Harmony presses her hands to the window, banging on it lightly. “Leem,” she cheers quietly.

Of course. Of fucking course it was Liam.

“Ah. I’m going to have to have a talk with Uncle Liam later, aren’t I?” Louis purses his lips, and Harmony just giggles, waving her arms some more.

At least one of them finds this situation amusing.

Not that Louis can really blame Liam. The song is lovely, as Harry’s songs usually are. It just hurts to listen to his voice like this. It hurts to remember that he can’t really listen to Harry sing for him like he used to do. It’s pathetic, but Louis’ been aware of how pathetic he is for years. He’s been pathetic over Harry since the moment they met, and the distance between them definitely hasn’t changed that.

Louis continues to drive and tries really hard not to think about it.

He only mostly succeeds, but it’s enough for now.

_. . ._

“Promise me you won't freak out?” Zayn requests, and Louis’ kind of getting worried, at this point.

Zayn likes his ominous statements and ridiculous confusing logic, but he normally doesn't start off the day by trying to scare the crap out of Louis. A glance at Zayn’s face tells Louis that he’s being perfectly serious right now. So, yeah. He’s worried now.

“Um.” Louis pauses, shifting awkwardly. Harmony squawks out a laugh from the living room of the flat, where she’s sitting with Liam. For once, the noise doesn’t make Louis feel any better. “I... I won’t freak out? What’s going on, Zayn?”

Zayn glances up from the table to look at him, his eyes all hesitant and wary. Louis clutches tightly at the mug of tea in his hand, blowing at the steam drifting from it to distract himself. It’s a better option than having an awkward staredown with Zayn.

At any given time, awkward staredowns with Zayn are definitely a no-go.

“I... Look. I don’t think it’ll actually matter or anything, but you deserve to know, okay? That’s, uh. That’s why I’m telling you. You know?”

Louis is going to lose his fucking mind.

“Zayn.” He sighs out a breath, a forced smile tugging his lips upwards. “Tell me what the fuck is going on and stop rambling, please. I’m going to lose my shit if you don’t stop freaking me out.”

Zayn drags his teeth over his bottom lip and runs a hand through his hair. He’s stalling, and Louis is about ready to start yelling at him, when he finally takes a deep breath and offers, “Harry’s moving back to London.”

Everything stops.

Or maybe it’s only Louis that stops, because he can hear Liam and Harmony laughing from the other room and he can see Zayn’s eyes flickering nervously, but Louis can’t move-- he can’t breathe. He can’t think. He can’t. If he starts to think he’ll remember the taste of Harry’s skin against his lips during soft kisses up his body and the feeling of Harry’s hands gripping his hips. He’ll remember curls and a gentle smile and laughing about the dumbest shit at two in the morning over lukewarm tea and cold leftovers. He’ll remember the way Harry always knew when he was nervous, knew when to hold him and when to leave him alone and give him some time to come back to himself.

He’ll remember the look on Harry’s face when he told Louis that he had to leave. He’ll remember the way Harry cried when Louis told him that it was too much.

And those are things that he just can’t think about.

“What?” He croaks out.

Zayn winces and offers, “Harry’s moving back to London, Lou.”

“No.” Louis is kind of freaking out, but he can’t help it. It’s really not his fault. He shakes his head a few times, eyes watering. “No he’s not. Harry lives in LA now, Zayn. You know that. Don’t... Don’t lie to me, please.”

Zayn’s eyes scream a thousand words of sympathy, and Louis isn’t sure if pouring his tea on Zayn or throwing up would be more satisfying at the moment. He thinks he might just go with both to get a solid across the board kind of deal.

“I’m sorry,” Zayn mutters. Louis turns his eyes to his tea, because he doesn’t want to look at anything else right now. Zayn is too sympathetic, the world outside is too bright, and the only object nearby that truly understands him is the murky cup of tea in his grasp that’s slowly cooling. “Niall called the other day. Harry’s taking a break for a bit whilst he switches management teams, or something? He’s apparently wanted to move back to London for a long time, but he wasn’t really able to until now.”

“You still talk to Niall?” Louis whispers, blinking slowly.

He is not going to fucking cry. No. Absolutely one hundred thousand something percent not going to happen. Louis Tomlinson doesn’t cry. Ever. Nope.

Zayn sighs. “Yeah, Lou. I still talk to Niall. He’s a good friend. You know that.”

“Right.” Louis nods his head slowly. His fingers trace the wood of Zayn and Liam’s table nervously. There’s no sticky residue on the table, which he’s momentarily startled by before he remembers that Zayn and Liam don’t have a two and a half year old living in their flat with them and wreaking havoc. “Right. Yeah. I... I know.”

Giggles trickle in from the room over, permeating their awkward aura with a pleasantness Louis is far from feeling. Zayn doesn’t seem to be feeling the pleasantness either, really, if the look on his face is anything to go by.

If this were any other situation, Louis would probably be laughing.

He’s definitely not laughing right now.

Louis stiffens, his shoulders tensing. Fuck everything. There’s too many things running through his head right now. He can’t even think straight.

 _Harmony._ (Harry.) _Harmony._

Finally, Louis purses his lips and turns a dark look in Zayn’s direction. “You won’t tell either of them _anything_ about her. Do you hear me, Zayn? Don’t fucking do it. Don’t even think about it.”

“Maybe you should, though,” Zayn suggests quietly. “Maybe you should consider telling Harry about her.”

“Absolutely fucking not.” Louis’ eyes narrow into a glare. “She’s not _his_ , Zayn. Just because I named her Harmony doesn’t mean that he needs to know her. Harry and I haven’t been anything for years. You know that. Don’t try to pretend that her name means anything.”

“It does, though,” Zayn argues. His voice drops to nothing more than a hiss when Louis attempts to intensify his glare. He maybe fails, just a little bit, but he tried, and it’s the effort that counts. For sure. “It fucking means something because you’re still in love with him, Louis. Don’t pretend you aren’t.”

And that-- yeah, that’s just too much.

Louis pushes his chair out and jerks to his feet, clutching his mug of tea to his chest. He manages a pretty impressive glare this time, his lips lifting in a sneer. “I will always be in love with him.” Louis forces the words through his aching chest, trying his hardest to remain calm. “And you should know better than to fucking talk about that.”

Zayn doesn’t even try to stop him when he storms out of the kitchen and into the living room.

He’s greeted with the sight of Liam waltzing Harmony around the room and while sloppily crooning Ed Sheeran to her. Harmony’s giggling wildly and beaming, and Louis feels some of the tension drain out of him. Liam might be an idiot sometimes-- a term that Louis uses affectionately, of course-- but he’s been Louis’ best friend since age five, and there’s no one he’d rather see with Harmony then Liam Payne.

Even if Liam does introduce her to all of Harry’s music.

Fucking Liam.

“Teaching my daughter how to dance now, Payno?”

Liam glances up with a small smile, and Harmony continues to giggle, bouncing on top of Liam’s toes. He groans quietly, and Louis bites back a laugh. Harmony is absolutely a little shit, but she’s his favorite little shit, and that makes up for everything ridiculous she’s ever done.

Except for the time she vomited on that sweater that Louis had spent way too much money on. He’s still a little miffed about that one, but he’ll probably forgive her soon.

(Soon really just means the next time she does something cute, which will likely be within the next two minutes. He's totally wrapped around her little fingers, and Louis wouldn't have it either way.)

“This is a dancing kind of song, Lou. You know it is.”

Louis quirks his hip out to the side, a small smirk growing on his lips. “Oh yeah? How’s it working out for you two so far?”

Liam purses his lips and twirls Harmony around. He has a kind of amused look in his eyes, and Louis feels his lips twitch in response. “Well, I think I may have a broken toe, but she’s enjoying it, so we’re all good.”

The surge of affection that Louis feels definitely shows on his face, even if he tries valiantly to keep his Totally-Cool-Guy exterior. Then again, he probably shouldn’t even try around Liam anymore. Liam knows him far too well. He’s one of four people that’s seen Louis cry, and he should probably be considered a member of some kind of elite club for that.

“You’re the best,” Louis whispers. He turns to look at Liam to meet his eyes, then, just so Liam knows how earnest he’s being.

Liam blushes, and Louis can tell that he’s trying his hardest not to smile. “Shut up, Lou.”

“You know I can’t do that,” Louis teases. He winks quickly at Liam before turning his attention to Harmony, who’s yet to stop giggling and bouncing on her toes again. Liam makes a pained noise, but doesn’t complain at all besides that. “I’ve never been able to shut up.”

“Yeah, you’re right. From the moment I met you you never stopped talking.” Liam smirks at him as he twirls Harmony around, and Louis falls back into the couch.

He’s so tired.

“My mum is taking Harm on Saturday,” he offers quietly after a moment. “So if you and Zayn are free then maybe we can... Spend some time together.”

Liam snorts quietly. “You two are going to have made up by then?”

Louis sighs. He crosses his arms over his chest awkwardly and frowns in Liam’s direction. “We’re going to make up before Harmony and I leave, you idiot. You know that.”

Harmony chooses this very moment to extract herself from Liam’s arms and bound over to Louis, jumping onto his lap. Louis doesn’t even try to hide how fond he is-- he doubts he’d be able to even if he tried-- as he smiles widely at his daughter. “Hello there, love,” he whispers. “How are you? Were you having fun?”

“Spinny,” she declares brightly, and Louis can’t hide his smile.

“Yeah,” he agrees quietly. “You were spinning a lot, darling.”

She seems satisfied with that answer and relaxes back against him, bouncing occasionally. Louis lets himself run his hands through her hair, carefully picking out any knots that have managed to tangle up in there.

Liam is watching the two of them with the most ridiculous fond smile, but his smile seems to die just the smallest bit as he watches Zayn wander hesitantly into the room. Louis flickers a glance at Zayn, but doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t know what to say, honestly. He swallows nervously as Zayn sits down on the couch next to him and Harmony, waiting for something. Anything. But, of course, Zayn doesn’t even attempting to say anything to him.

Looks like he has to start this one, then.

“I’m sorry,” Louis whispers, threading his fingers through Harmony’s hair. “I shouldn’t have snapped. It was rude.”

Zayn turns his head, nodding slightly, and then smiles. “It’s okay, Lou. I shouldn’t have brought it up. You’re right, you know. You don’t owe him anything, and you never did.”

“I know.” Louis sniffles a bit, chin lifting snootily, but he relaxes into Zayn’s side nonetheless, tension draining out of his shoulders. “Now. I’m sure you heard Liam and I making plans, so we’re going to talk more about that later, but right now we’re going to turn on whatever movie Harm wants to watch and all cuddle.”

Liam is laughing, then, and Zayn turns to look at him, lips pursed. “Who said that’s what was going to happen?” He demands, brow furrowing.

“I said it would happen, so it’s law.” Louis cracks a grin.

Zayn makes a face at him, his nose all wrinkled up as if he’s trying to figure out if Louis’ being serious or not. Finally, he just shakes his head. “Just get Harmony to pick a movie and shut up,” he offers, shoving at Louis’ shoulder. In retaliation, Louis curls into Zayn with a warm smile, and he yanks Liam closer to the two of them and their tangle of limbs.

Yeah. They’re okay.

_. . ._

The club is packed. It’s always been one of Louis’s favorite things about going out. The flashing lights, the bass that makes his heart beat in time with it. The press of warm bodies all close together all over the dance floor. The alcohol.

Yeah, the alcohol is definitely good.

Which is _maybe_ , just maybe, why Louis is absolutely, totally drunk right now. He’s enjoying every second of it, though. Mostly.

There is a small problem in the fact that Zayn and Liam are snogging right next to him and refuse to move away from each other, but Louis’ wasted enough that he just figures he’ll find someone else to entertain him. He doesn’t _need_ Zayn and Liam, he can find a perfectly respectable guy with a nice sized package and some pretty curves all on his own. He’s capable.

Most of the time.

Louis sighs and drags himself out of his seat at the table. He keeps sinking into it, and at this rate he figures he’ll fall asleep there if he doesn’t move. Somehow, he manages to trip over his own feet and almost stumbles headfirst into the table before he manages to catch himself.

Yeah, he’s really drunk.

“I’m going to go to the loo,” he slurs out cheerfully, turning to glance at Liam and Zayn.

Zayn just flips him off without even detaching himself from Liam’s face.

They’re gross. Really, really gross.

Louis hates that part of him really wants something like that. He hates it even more when the first person his mind goes to is Ha-- _you-know-who_.

(... But not the actual you-know-who. Of course. Louis doesn’t want to snog Voldemort. That would be pretty gross.)

Louis stumbles away from the two of them. He doesn’t actually know where he’s going, really, but that’s part of the adventure of all of this. He’s going to end up somewhere, after all, and at this point it’s kind of up in there where that somewhere is. Humming lightly to himself, Louis takes a few steps off course, veering to the left for no apparent reason, and freezes when he runs into someone’s back.

“Oh!” He blinks slowly, trying to gather himself, and then giggles. “Sorry about that, mate.”

The person he’s still gripping onto freezes. Louis spends a good few minutes trying to figure out how to detach his fingers from said person’s sweater, but he seems to be incapable of even that simple of a task. It’s not just because he’s drunk, either. There’s something oddly familiar about this person, something about their figure and their smell that makes Louis never want to let go of them.

Said person turns around slowly, and Louis realizes just why this person seems so familiar at the same time that his stomach consecutively twists into a million knots and drops to his feet.

Even though the shock of this has sobered him up some, Louis' still drunk enough right now that he thinks he can physically feel that sensation. His toes are tingling and he feels physically ill. He’s shaking. Maybe? He can’t actually tell, but his hands feel distinctly unsteady. Maybe he’s just losing his mind. Louis isn’t really sure.

“Louis,” that ever familiar voice mutters, and Louis thinks he might cry.

Because of course, _of course_ , on the first night he goes out in around a year, he runs into Harry fucking Styles in the middle of a club.

The worst part about being right in front of Harry is that Louis’ first instinct is still to wrap his arms around Harry and curl into him until they’re more like one person than two. He wants to tangle his fingers through Harry’s. Braid his hair. Kiss him, maybe. The logical part of his brain-- the one he can barely hear right now-- is screaming at him to get the fuck away as quickly as possible.

He’s kind of just frozen, though. This doesn’t even feel real. It really doesn’t.

“H-Harry,” he whispers. He’s definitely shaking, now. “Um. Harry. Wow. Hi.”

What the fuck else is he supposed to say? He’s too drunk for this.

“Louis.” Harry’s face lights up. It’s his Louis-look, or, at least, it's what used to be his Louis-look. A piece of him hopes that it's still just his Louis-look and that nobody else gets that big smile that makes the skin beside Harry’s eyes crinkle just a bit, that makes his eyes just a touch brighter. The fact that Harry still gets that look around him, even after years of no contact, makes Louis feel breathless. Part of him honestly wonders what Harry would do if he started crying right now. “Fuck. Wow, it’s so good to see you.” Harry’s voice is barely a whisper, and he stares at Louis with eyes full of sparkling emotions, as if he can’t help but let some of the feelings escape him.

“I--” Louis falters. “Um. Yeah, it’s been awhile, hasn’t it?”

“Um.” Harry huffs out a quiet laugh, and Louis is still feeling distinctly disturbed. He’s not sure if he’s more disturbed by the fact that Harry’s right in front of him and the world has yet to end or the fact that he can’t bring himself to leave. Louis isn’t sure if he’ll ever actually know what’s worse. “You look really good, Louis. Really fucking good.”

And-- okay. This really shouldn’t be giving him butterflies, but it’s all he can feel, those little pinpricks of lightness in his stomach. It makes him feel uneasy, actually, because this is _Harry_ , and Louis had promised himself years ago that he wouldn’t let Harry affect him in any way. Evidently, he’s kind of epicly failing at that, as of right now.

He shifts uncomfortably. “Um. Thanks. Er, you do too. Your... Your hair looks really nice long.”

Harry’s lips quirk into a grin, and Louis kind of wants to scream. “Thanks.” A delicate laugh follows the words. “The facial hair suits you. I don’t remember you really having much, er, before.”

Fuck. Why can’t he just hate Harry Styles?

“Yeah. Yeah.”

What is he even agreeing to? Louis doesn’t remember.

Harry leans casually against the bar, and Louis drunkenly takes a moment to admire his elbows. He doesn’t know when he started finding elbows attractive, but somehow he’s reached this point.

He’s going to blame the alcohol. And also the fact that he finds everything about Harry attractive.

Louis watches quietly as Harry leans over the bar to grab the shot glass he’d set down, a few curls falling over his shoulder to obscure part of his face. Louis wants to touch it. He’s drunk enough that he likely would have if Harry hadn’t moved and downed his shot at that very moment.

Yeah. He needs to get out of here before he does something he really regrets.

The only problem is that Louis’ kind of forgotten how to move.

“You here with anyone?” Harry asks, a small grin tugging at his lips.

Louis’ now just standing here staring at Harry’s lips with his mouth hanging open. He probably looks absolutely ridiculous. Like he's some obsessed stalker-fan or something. Which is really not the image he wants to project at all. He’s just making this whole thing very awkward. Louis shakes his head quickly. “Nope. No. Well. I mean... I came with Zayn and Li and stuff, but they’re probably fucking in the loo by now so I’m gonna pretend I don’t know who they are, yeah?”

He maybe sways and tries to steady himself on the bar during his explanation, but it’s all good. He’s just really, really drunk. Everything’s fine. He makes it through, and that’s all that really matters, so it’s all cool.

Harry reaches out a hand to grasp his hip. It’s probably just to help him stay steady, but Louis kind of just wants to clutch at Harry’s hand and never let go.

“That’s probably a good plan,” Harry agrees with a bright smile.

Louis needs to stop staring. Fucking hell. He’s such a mess right now.

They’re quiet, then, the bass and flashing lights entirely too loud and bright. It’s all kinds of overwhelming, being here with Harry in front of him. Harry was his place-- his person-- for so long, and being here now, years of nothing stretching between them, Louis wants nothing more than to beg for Harry’s forgiveness and never let go of him.

He can’t do that, obviously.

Harry’s watching him, his green eyes almost calm, and Louis spends a pointless moment wishing that they’re thinking the exact same thing. It’s unlikely, but he’ll hope anyways.

They're quiet for a long time. Almost too long. Just as Louis is about to say something-- fuck, anything, at this point-- Harry turns to look at him, and Louis is floored. He’s floored by the fact that Harry is actually here, and he’s completely speechless because Harry is absolutely stunning.

Harry’s hand is still on his hip.

“Do you... Um.” Harry hesitates, tilts his head back, and then smiles. “Do you maybe want to get out of here?”

Holy shit. Holy _fuck_. Did Harry actually just...?

Louis should definitely say no.

“Yes,” he breathes out, “absolutely.”

Well. So much for that. Harry grins triumphantly and his hand on Louis’ hip tightens a bit. It’s a comforting feeling, so Louis can’t bring himself to complain. He kind of wants to stay in this moment and stare at Harry for forever, but he suddenly remembers that if he moves then he’ll get to touch Harry and he’ll never be able to resist that, no matter how hard he tries.

Harry places a few notes on the bar before he grabs his jacket and Louis’ arm. “Where should we go?”

“Oh.” Louis blinks at him dazedly. “My place. My place is... fine.” This is an awful idea. Louis knows that. He knows. It’s just... Well, Harmony won’t be home until tomorrow afternoon, so it’s by far the most convenient option they have.

And the feeling of Harry’s fingers tangling up with his own doesn’t do much to help clear the fog in his mind.

So he's just going to go with this. He’ll probably regret everything about it in the morning, but, for now, the feeling of Harry’s hand engulfing his own is more than enough.

He doesn’t regret it as Harry pulls him out of the club and towards a car though. He doesn’t regret it when he gives the driver-- is this a cab or one of Harry’s fancy cars? Louis isn’t sure, and he doesn’t know if he wants to know, really-- his address.

Louis especially doesn’t regret it when he and Harry are stumbling out of the car and into his small home, kicking their shoes off the second they’re through the door. Harry doesn’t wait much longer than that before pressing Louis back up against the wall and attaching their lips together, and Louis very nearly sighs in relief. It’s been so long since he’s had that touch, and having Harry pressing up against him now feels quite like peace after so long of confusion and unsettling sadness.

He’s really still a bit drunk, which is probably the only reason any of this makes sense.

“Bed,” Louis breathes out softly, his lips moving against Harry’s in a way that makes his body fucking sing. “Get me to my bed right the fuck now, Styles.”

“Where?”

Harry’s voice is so low and throaty and Louis feels himself go weak at the knees. He grasps Harry’s arms tightly and offers, “Upstairs. Now.”

Once he has some sense of direction, Harry wastes no time in dragging Louis behind him on his mission to get to Louis’ bedroom as quickly as possible. It’s kind of weirdly hot, in a brutish way.

Yeah, Louis’ definitely still tipsy.

“I missed you,” Harry breathes. Louis stumbles against the edge of his bed and swallows thickly. He can’t deal with feelings right now. That’s not what this is about. Fuck Harry for even trying to make this about feelings.

Louis toes his shoes off and turns his head to give Harry a look. Harry has frozen-- or something? Louis isn’t really sure what he’s doing, honestly-- but he’s glowing, still. The moonlight makes him look even paler than he is. Louis quickly strips himself and quirks an eyebrow at Harry.

“Well?” A smirk tugs his lips upwards. “Are you going to get over here and let me give you a blowjob?”

Harry moves faster than Louis thinks he’s ever seen him move before. He stumbles a few times in his attempts to get out of his pants, hopping around and wobbling, and it’s so endearing that Louis’ breath catches in his throat. He finds himself biting back a smile. Harry finally manages to get his pants off, but he gets his hair tangled in his shirt as he tries to pull it over his head.

 _I’m still so in love with you_ , Louis thinks.

His chest aches.

“I, um.” Louis glances up at Harry, blowing air out through his lips. “You’re so beautiful, Lou. You’re always so beautiful but I just... Uh.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Louis whispers.

It’s not a fond whisper. Absolutely not.

It maybe kind of is.

Harry blinks slowly at him. He looks kind of confused, but he reaches out and tangles his fingers through Louis’ hair anyways. He’s doing that thing that he used to always do, where he cradles the back of Louis’ head and runs his fingers through the end of Louis’ hair.

It apparently still makes Louis weak at the knees, which-- well, that’s good to know.

Louis tilts his head back into Harry’s touch and the noise he makes sounds kind of like a purr. Harry smiles a smile that’s smug but content all at once. It looks so much like home, and Louis wants to wrap himself up in that smile and never ever leave.

Harry leans down, his lips trailing across Louis’ neck to his ear and whispers, “I think I was promised a blowjob.”

Louis will probably spend the rest of his life denying to himself that he doesn’t even try argue, just makes a soft noise and drops to his knees. He shouldn’t be doing this. He should want to kick Harry’s arse, not have his way with it, but alcohol does weird things to even the best of people.

“Ah.” Louis smirks, unable to help himself. “What do we have here?”

Harry just groans in response, looking kind of put-out. It’s a tad bit amusing. “Lou.”

Louis stares at Harry’s cock, his lips pursed a bit. He reaches a hand out and trails his fingers up the skin, just to watch it twitch underneath his fingers. The weight of it is so familiar, and, without even thinking about how ridiculous he probably sounds, he finds himself whispering, “Still as pretty as I remembered it.”

“Yeah?” Harry giggles. He actually giggles, the fucker.

Louis refuses to admit how much he missed that sound.

“Prettiest cock I’ve ever seen,” Louis admits.

Which, okay, that’s not really saying much because he doesn’t really think they’re _supposed_ to be pretty. And he hasn’t actually seen that many dicks. Whatever. It’s not like he’s lying. Harry’s cock is still lovely, even by his lame standards.

Harry smirks at him, and Louis arches an eyebrow, unwilling to admit how turned on he is by the smug look on his face. “Maybe you should do something with it then.”

“Hm, maybe.” Louis tilts his head to the side. “Maybe you should ask nicely.”

“Please,” Harry croaks out. He doesn’t even stop to think about it, just begs, his eyes so earnest and pleading. “Please, Louis. Please suck me.”

Fucking hell. Fucking Harry Styles. Honestly.

A distant part of his brain acknowledges the fact that that’s not quite a good idea, but Louis’ pushes that away in order to lean forwards and press a light kiss to the head. Harry makes the sweetest little noise, one that makes Louis’ heart lurch, so he continues his teasing. Complete with innocent looks and fluttering eyelashes and kitten licks and everything. He’s mostly being a little shit, really, but Harry’s whining, tugging at Louis’ hair in a silent plea for more.

There are a lot of things Louis can’t do. He can’t fix his and Harry’s past. He can’t even acknowledge that everything about this moment shouldn’t be happening. But giving Harry more... Yeah, he can do that.

Louis allows himself a smirk at Harry before he leans in to suck at the head of Harry’s cock. Harry makes a choked noise and Louis is definitely proud of himself.

“You know,” Louis pulls back to trail his tongue along the vein on the underside. "I bet I still remember exactly how to make you lose your shit, Styles.”

“I bet I could make you lose your shit if you give me a go after this.”

“Oh.” Louis laughs-- he shouldn’t be laughing, this is _Harry_ , he absolutely should not be laughing around his ex-boyfriend right before they have sex together, what the fuck is wrong with him?-- and winks up at Harry. “Did you think you were getting out of this without making me fall apart, Styles? I might not be entirely sober right now, but I’m not dumb. When a pretty boy wants to play with me, I’m not usually one to say no.”

Harry doesn’t seem particularly pleased by that statement, but he just nods. “Right. Of course.”

(Is... is Harry _jealous?_ )

Louis shakes the thought off as quickly as it comes, pursing his lips and returning his attention to more important matters. Such as swirling his tongue at the tip of Harry’s cock, trailing his lips up and down the head. He resists the urge to laugh just a little at the noises Harry is making. He doesn’t want Harry to think he’s making fun of him. It’s just... Cute. Harry’s cute. And Louis probably wouldn’t let himself think that if he wasn’t still a bit too tipsy for his liking right now, but it doesn’t matter.

When he’s finally done being a tease, Louis moves a hand to the base, twisting his wrist a bit. He ducks his head down, finally taking Harry into his mouth. Harry groans, his hands coming to tangle in Louis’ hair.

“Fuck,” he breathes out. “You’re still so fucking good at this. Holy shit.”

Louis is absolutely proud of himself.

He continues his motions, his wrist moving up and down, twisting and teasing, while he bobs his head up and down. Harry’s making soft little moans from above him, so Louis bobs a bit further down, taking his free hand and running it up Harry’s hips, dragging his nail upwards, pressing into the soft skin.

“Holy shit,” Harry breathes out.

Okay, yeah. Harry definitely still has a pain kink, then. _Good to know_.

They remain mostly silent as Louis continues, excepting Harry’s moaning and groaning, too caught up in the moment to realize the true weight of what they're doing. Louis’ still a bit tipsy, so he’s going to refrain from thinking about his poor decision making abilities until tomorrow morning. He has more important things to focus on. Like making Harry come, for one thing.

That’s a thing he needs to do.

Louis picks up his pace, changing the angle of his head a bit to stare at Harry, who gasps, his hips jerking forwards a bit.

“Fuck,” Harry blurts out. His hands are trembling from where they’re still clutching at Louis’ hair, his eyes wide. “Sorry. I’m sorry. Shit, sorry.”

“Fucking hell,” Louis splutters, pulling back to catch his breath. “I forgot how eager you are.”

Harry whines. “Can't help it, Lou.”

Of course he can’t.

Louis runs his fingers up and down the soft skin of Harry’s thighs, humming softly to himself. “It’s okay, babe. Don’t worry about it. I don’t mind.”

He takes Harry in his mouth again before Harry can even form a reply, changing the angle of his wrist to make Harry moan even louder. It isn’t long before Harry’s falling apart, whimpering as he comes, and Louis swallows what he can, spluttering out a cough as he pulls away.

His face feels a bit sticky, and he’s not entirely sure how he managed to get his spit and Harry’s come everywhere, but somehow he did. He must look like a right mess, but Harry doesn’t really seem to mind, if the dazed way he’s staring at Louis is anything to go by.

“A little warning might have been nice,” he suggests cheekily, just to watch Harry turn completely red. It’s successful, and Louis feels quite satisfied.

Harry shifts a bit, and they’re just staring at each other before Harry suddenly starts grinning. “Let me make it up to you, Lou. I promise it’ll be worth it.”

Louis quirks an eyebrow, his lips twitching. “Oh? You think you can?”

“Fuck yes I can,” Harry breathes out softly. He’s smirking, which means that Louis is probably fucked, but he doesn’t think that’s really got a literal meaning to it. Still, who knows. Anything’s possible when it comes to Harry Styles.

He cocks his hip out to the side, wrapping his arms around his middle. “What you got in mind for me, then, Mister Styles?”

Harry wiggles his eyebrows and points a finger at him. “Get on the bed and get rid of your clothes, please and thank you.”

For once, Louis doesn’t try to pick a fight, but he does find it within himself to tack on, “oh, someone’s demanding, aren’t they?” just to tease Harry.

He feels rather accomplished when Harry starts blushing and stammering, but that version of Harry-- one that was _his_ Harry, who he misses with so much of him that he’s lost the capability to breathe, thinking about it-- disappears quickly and is replaced by cocky, confident, always-smirking Harry.

Harry, who settles down somewhere behind him and reaches for Louis’ nightstand. When Louis realizes that Harry’s managed to get the drawer open, when he realizes what exactly it is that Harry’s reaching for, Louis feels a bit faint.

Of course, being himself-- a human being who doesn’t know the definition of tact-- he blurts out, “do you want to fuck me?”

“Uh.” Harry startles a bit. “I mean, yes but, erm, I wasn’t going to? Not right now. We’re both tipsy and I think we might... regret it or something.”

Louis isn’t sure if he’s upset or pleased by that answer, but some of the tension drain out of his shoulders nonetheless. “Right,” he breathes out. “Okay. Good.”

“Yeah.” Harry coughs.

There’s a short awkward silence, and Louis curses himself for his inability to shut up.

“Can we get back into the mood now?” Harry requests suddenly. “Because I’d really like to finger you, if that’s okay?”

Oh fuck yes.

Louis shifts his hips a bit, glancing at Harry over his shoulder. He purses his lips and shrugs as best he can in his kind of awkward position. His arms have yet to start aching, though, so he refuses to give in and move. “Hm. Yeah, that’s okay.”

Harry giggles and Louis wants to kiss him. “Thanks for giving me permission, love.”

Louis is about to protest when he feels a finger move to circle around his rim and he whines, needy and warm with the last remnants of alcohol.

He feels fucking glorious right now.

“Holy shit,” Louis breathes out. Harry’s finger moves to trace around him again and he bucks his hips, unable to stop himself. “Fuck yes, Harry. Fuck. Come on. Please.”

Harry’s voice is thick with lust when he chuckles, his lips trailing against Louis’ ear. “You’re so pretty, babe.”

If Harry doesn’t pick up the pace, Louis is probably going to kill him. _Honestly_.

Louis is about to start telling Harry about the rather creative threats he’s coming up with currently, when Harry pushes his middle finger past his rim, slowly sinking in, and Louis lets out a hoarse noise, almost a cry. It’s pathetic, he feels pathetic, but it can’t be helped. He’s always been the sort to just melt in Harry Styles’ hands.

The knowledge that he’s not the only person in the world who’s probably ever behaved this way with Harry before is startling and unpleasant. Louis almost can’t shake the thought, but he’s thankfully distracted as Harry starts a slow movement of his finger, leaving Louis gasping for breath. Fuck, he’s missed this.

“Oh god, yes,” Louis groans. He squirms a bit, partially because he’s overwhelmed and can’t even imagine trying to keep still and partially because he’s way too fucking nervous to not squirm. “Yes. Fuck.”

Harry changes the angle of his finger a bit, crooking it lightly, and Louis gasps, his hands clutching at the sheets underneath him. He feels kind of delirious, in this moment, weak and a tad bit out of control, but he wouldn’t change it for anything. He knows that he wouldn’t.

“You’re so beautiful.”

The whisper against his gross sweaty skin sends a kind of shock through Louis. He hadn’t expected Harry to be so sweet around him. This is essentially a one-night stand, isn’t it? Just because the two of them have a previous connection doesn’t change how things ended between them, and this, realistically, doesn’t mean anything.

Louis, thankfully, is pulled from his thoughts when Harry presses another finger into him, his movements teasing and light. He lets out a soft grunt, his eyes clenching shut. “You can do better than that, Styles. I know you can.”

If there’s one thing Harry can never seem to back down from, it’s a good challenge. Which, in this situation, is quite a pleasant thing for Louis, if the new pace that Harry picks up is anything to go by.

And it’s not romantic, really. It’s not meant to be, Louis is entirely aware of that, but somewhere in the pit of his stomach it’s way too easy to identify what’s missing, even years after their relationship has ended. Louis knows how soft Harry can be, he knows what that’s like, and this is a world away. They’re not what they used to be, not anymore, and Louis isn’t entirely sure what to feel about that.

“Fuck,” he blurts out, a cry leaving his lips as Harry crooks his fingers just right, stroking up against his prostate. “Holy fuck.”

Louis is shaking. He’s a mess. He’s missed Harry so fucking much, and now Harry is here but he doesn’t even have him back, not really, and part of him just wants to cry. There’s other things to focus on, though. Such as Harry’s wonderfully accurate fingers. Those are nice.

Another noise is punched out of him, and Louis grasps at the sheets of his bed, writhing and messy. “Please,” he moans out, “fuck, _please_ , I’m s-so close Harry please, please.”

Harry, because he’s an asshole, slows down the pace of his fingers then, moving to lightly stroking at Louis’ walls instead of the fast pace he’d had a few seconds ago. Louis quivers and cries out, angry and overwhelmed and pleased all at once. “F-Fuck,” he hisses. He bites back a few moans, his chapped bottom lip caught in between his teeth.

“You’re so gorgeous like this,” Harry mutters lowly, still stroking at Louis. “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, Louis Tomlinson. Fuck. I didn’t forget what you were like when you’re falling apart, but it’s even better seeing it again in person.”

Louis might make a really embarrassing sound at that, and he even feels himself turn red. He buries his face in his pillow, just to Harry won’t tease him. Harry seems to decide that that’s unacceptable, though, because his fingers start moving faster again. Louis’ unable to stop his breath from hitching and another embarrassing sound from leaving him as Harry’s fingers punch moans and grunts from him. His hips jerk a bit.

“I’m g-going to lose my shit.” The words are interrupted by soft moans, and Louis can’t stop shaking. Harry makes him a mess, even still, and Louis hates him for it. (He doesn’t hate Harry at all.) “C’mon S-Styles. Make me come. I know you c-can.”

Harry definitely takes that as a challenge, apparently, because he changes the angle of his fingers yet again and Louis’s shouting at the new feeling. He can’t control himself. It’s pathetic but true, and it isn’t long before he falls apart completely on Harry’s fingers, gasping as his entire body twitches.

“Missed doing that,” Harry mumbles lowly in his ear, once Louis’ completely spent and slumped against him. “Missed you, Lou.”

A really unpleasant feeling settles in Louis’ gut. He wishes he could shake it, but he can’t. Finally, he just shrugs a bit, shaking himself. He’ll think about it later.

“Let’s go to sleep.” Louis presses a yawn into Harry’s sweaty skin, his eyes watering a bit. “Please. I’m fucking exhausted, you monster.”

Harry huffs out a laugh into his hair. “Sure thing.”

They don’t move for a second, unsure of what they’re supposed to do. There’s too much between them, too much history and moments that neither of them will ever be able to forget.

“You still a little spoon?” Louis finally asks, and he’s relieved when Harry huffs out a laugh.

“Yeah.” He smiles at Louis, his face so warm and soft and fond, and Louis wants for this moment to never end at the same time that he wishes it never happened. “C’mere, big spoon.”

As he wraps his arms around Harry, drawing him back against his chest, Louis decides that he really shouldn’t be enjoying this as much as he is. Not that that’s going to stop him. In fact, Louis’ going to enjoy this moment as much as he can before he loses this again. Which is probably a really bad sign.

Harry snuffles and giggles, his face alight. He presses a soft kiss to Louis’ cheek before he rolls over enough that they're properly spooning.

Yeah.

Louis’ totally fucked.

_. . ._

Louis is hungover, sore in places that he hasn’t been sore in maybe a year, and, as of a few minutes ago, he’s officially flipping the fuck out.

He went home with Harry Styles.

His ex-boyfriend. Who he may or may not still be in love with. Who also may or may not be famous. And in the closet.

Louis is so fucked. Honestly.

And, okay, pacing around his kitchen is probably a cowardly kind of avoidance method, but he doesn’t have many other options, so he’s going to roll with this for now.

Fuck. He shouldn’t have drank last night. It’s kind of a shame, really. Louis had just wanted a night of fun with Zayn and Liam, but now he’s here, pacing his kitchen and running over a night of sloppy blowjobs and Harry’s long fingers doing things to him that Louis had missed far more than he’d thought. Not only that, but he’d brought Harry to his house. The place where he and Harmony live. Together.

There are dolls just lying in the living room, and he and Harry had stumbled past them last night without even noticing them.

Harry doesn’t know he has a daughter.

Louis cringes.

He and Harry don’t fit together anymore, no matter how much Louis would like to pretend they do.

The Harry that had fit with him was young and bright, all curls and brilliant ideas, all talk of how he’d go on the X-Factor and win and make them rich, how Louis would never have to worry about anything ever again. Harry, in the end, had only been right about one of those things.

Not that it matters anymore. None of it will change the fact that they aren’t HarryandLouis anymore.

He’s Louis, and Harry is Harry and they don’t work together like they used to. Louis wishes that it were easier to stomach, wishes it were something he could truly accept, but it’s the only option he has. Harry is rich and famous and so gorgeous and he isn’t Louis’. Louis is just a man with a mostly enjoyable job teaching and a daughter that he loves more than life itself.

He can’t be Harry’s. Not again. Not like he was before.

The sound of footsteps moving down his stairs has Louis cringing, and he quickly turns to look out the window. He doesn’t want to face Harry. Not now. He can’t deal with this.

“Louis?” His voice is so low and gravely, just like it always was when they woke up next to each other. “Oh. Um. Hey. Good morning.”

Louis stiffens, his eyes clenching shut. He straightens up so quickly that his spine clicks, and he turns to glare at Harry. He needs to make Harry leave before he actually gives in to him and everything just gets a million times worse. Louis has always been a sucker for Harry’s dimples and pleading eyes, after all, and he knows that he won’t survive the combination again. He really, _really_ needs to make Harry leave before Harry tries to break down the walls that Louis had been forced to build after he left.

“You need to get out of my house,” Louis declares sharply. “Honestly. Get the fuck out, Harry.”

Harry looks startled. “Um. I--” He pauses, searching for words. “What do you mean? Don’t you want to talk or... Or, um?”

“No.” Louis cocks his hip to the side and wraps his arms around his middle. The grip of his own hands on his hips calms him ever so slightly. His fingers fiddle with the soft fabric of his sweater. “No. I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t have time to talk and I don’t think I’d want to talk even if I did have time. I know that we have a past, Harry, but this doesn’t really change anything. I’m sure you have better things to be doing anyways, Mister Popstar.”

“That’s not true,” Harry whispers. His eyes are pleading with Louis to just _stay_ , and a part of Louis wants to scream that if Harry wants that so badly then he never should have left in the first place. That would be cruel, though, so he refrains. “Please, Louis. Let’s just... Talk. Please. I need to talk to you.”

Louis glares at him. “Is all your stuff out of my room?”

The question clearly takes Harry off guard, because he falters, confusion flickering across his face. “Um. Yeah? I think so? Yes. I think, um. Yeah.”

“Good.” Louis pushes himself off the counter and makes his way past Harry to the stairs. He turns around and forces a smile at Harry. “I’m going to lock myself in there, and you’re going to leave my home. Do you understand?”

The last glimpse Louis gets of Harry’s face is his look of pure alarm, and he calls out, “Louis, wait--”

Louis responds by slamming his bedroom door.

When he exits his room thirty minutes later so he can leave to pick up Harmony, Harry isn’t anywhere to be found. Louis forces himself to ignore the surge of disappointment he feels and relaxes for the first time since he woke up.

_. . ._

“Harmony.” Louis sighs softly. “Honey. I know you’re excited for cookies, but you can’t keep trying to throw the ingredients around. If you do we’ll never actually get cookies.”

Harmony pouts up at him, a frown molding her lips downwards. “But yum yum,” she protests softly, smacking Louis with her free hand.

Louis snorts into his palm, a grin tugging his lips upwards. Harmony moves to tug at his hair, and he gives into the giggles that have been plaguing him since they started this ridiculous attempt at baking. They’ve likely made a massive mess of the kitchen for nothing, and if it were anyone else Louis strongly suspects that he would be very annoyed.

He can never be mad at Harmony, though. It just isn’t possible.

The sound of knocking at his door throws him off a bit, and Louis pauses, frowning. He chances a look at Harmony, but she’s just staring up at him wide eyes, head tilted to the side.

Louis sighs. “I’ll go get the door, love. You stay here, yeah?”

Harmony hums and slaps him again, and Louis is just going to take that as an agreement. He presses a kiss into Harmony’s hair as he moves out of the kitchen towards the door. He doesn’t even look at who’s outside before he opens it, which is his first mistake.

His second mistake is the fact that he doesn’t slam the door again when he sees who’s waiting for him.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Louis snaps, crossing his arms over his chest. He shoots a panicked look over his shoulder and fits himself in between the doorway and the door itself, ensuring that Harry can’t try and get into his house. He’d probably care less if Harmony weren’t still in the kitchen-- fuck, he’s left Harmony alone in the kitchen, which means it’ll be a disaster zone when he gets back in there-- but he can’t let Harry see her. He just can’t.

Harry shifts awkwardly, tugging at one of his curls. “I... I wanted to talk to you, Lou. I think we need to talk.”

“No.” Louis shakes his head. “We absolutely do not need to talk, Harry.”

Harry frowns. “Louis. We slept together. The first thing I did when I got back to London was go out with my crew to get drunk and instead I ended up having sex with you and that--”

“Shouldn’t have happened.” Louis taps his fingers nervously against the door and clears his throat. “That shouldn’t have happened. It wouldn’t have happened if I’d been sober.”

The look on Harry’s face then is almost pure devastation, and Louis wishes that he could say it didn’t affect him, but he knows better than to lie. All he really wants is to reach out and wrap his arms around Harry.

He can’t really do that, though.

“Okay, yeah,” Harry whispers. “But there’s... There’s still something between us, Louis. There always has been.”

Just as Louis’ about to ask where exactly Harry’s going with this, he hears an abrupt crash and startles, turning around a bit to see Harmony running down the hallway to him, her hair sticking up at ridiculous angles. For a split second, Louis just does what’s natural and frowns, quickly scanning her for any injuries, before he remembers that Harry’s standing in his doorway.

Fuck.

“Pap,” Harmony says brightly. “Papa!”

Well. So much for not letting Harry find out about Harmony, then.

Louis lets the door slip open a bit, and he presses a finger to his temple. Fuck. Of course this would be his luck. He should have bloody known. Refusing to look up at Harry, Louis turns to squat next to Harmony and brushes a strand of hair out of her face.

“Yeah, darling,” he hums quietly, “what’s up, little love?”

Harmony claps and offers, “cookies,” on a whine. “Yum yum.”

Louis presses a soft kiss to her hair. “I told you to wait in the kitchen, dork. They’re still in the oven. You can’t get them any faster unless you can somehow make time move faster. Can you do that, love? You never told me. I’m offended.”

“No,” Harmony giggles. She probably has no idea what he’s saying, but Louis is oddly okay with that.

There’s a choked noise from behind him, and Louis pauses, tensing.

Right. Fuck. Harry’s still there. Of course.

He lets out a nervous puff of air, shifting awkwardly, and turns to face Harry again.

“You, um. You have a kid?” Harry’s voice wobbles on the question, and if Harry were anyone else, Louis would have wrapped him up in a massive hug. This is Harry, though. He can’t really do that.

He wishes he could.

Louis clears his throat. “Um. Yeah. I do.”

Harry’s just standing there staring at Harmony, and Louis really doesn’t know what to say. Harry seems speechless too.

So, of course, Harmony is the one to break their awkward silence.

“Hi!” She shouts suddenly, waving up at Harry. “Pretty.”

Well, at the very least, Louis isn’t the only Tomlinson who’s caught off guard by the sight of Harry. It’s nice to know that his daughter has inherited something from him. (Even though that's technically impossible.) Louis runs a hand through his hair, shifting awkwardly. Fuck.

Harry seems to be in shock or something. He’s just standing there staring at Harmony with his mouth hanging open. Louis looks away, because he doesn’t know if he can handle the way that Harry keeps looking at them. It’s heartbreaking and annoying as fuck all at once, and a part of Louis really just wants to scream for all he’s worth right now.

“You have a daughter,” Harry repeats. “Holy fuck. You... You have a _daughter_.”

Louis winces. “Um. Yeah. I do.”

What else is he supposed to say? It's not like he can even try to lie at this point.

Harry looks so pale, and he shifts awkwardly, swallowing. “Right. Um. Okay. I should go, I think.”

And just-- what?

On some level, Louis supposes this is what he wants. It’ll make everything easier if Harry is gone, of course. Louis knows that. He’s not dumb. He’s really not. He’s just still miserably in love with Harry Styles and everything that he is. It’s why part of him wants to cling to Harry and tell him to never let go again, but he doesn’t really know if he could handle that pain again.

Still, he flinches anyways, swallowing thickly. “Right. Of course. I’m sure you have, uh. Stuff to do. And everything.”

... Stuff to do?

Honestly, Louis just needs to shut up.

“I, um.” Harry’s face is so uncomfortable. His whole body is tense, his shoulders brought up high, and Louis doesn’t fucking know what to do. He’s kind of at war with himself, honestly. Part of him is screaming to grab Harry and never let go, and the other part of him is saying he knows what will inevitably happen if he does that.

Harry’s left before.

Louis coughs awkwardly. “Erm. Harm, love. Say goodbye to Harry, will you?”

“Haree?” Harmony looks up with wide eyes and giggles. Louis opens his mouth to correct her, but he figures that’s close enough. She’d probably just ignore him anyways. She tends to do that. “Bye Haree!”

Harry nods, the movement stiff, and Louis shifts uncomfortably. “Um. I’ll see you around,” he whispers, his fingers moving to trail along the door. He needs to do something with his hands, or else he’s just going to latch onto Harry. Judging from the look on Harry’s face, that would probably be a horrible idea.

“Right.” Harry backs a few steps away. “Goodbye, Louis.”

He watches as Harry turns on his heel and takes off down the hallway. Louis shuts the door and turns back to Harmony, his heart making odd little skips within his chest.

He just wishes that this didn’t feel so final.

Louis knows it’s supposed to be better this way. This was the best decision for him. He can’t throw himself into everything like he used to. He has a daughter now, and she’s his whole world. He’ll do anything for her. No matter how much he loves Harry-- how much he’ll always love Harry, apparently-- Harmony will always come first.

That still doesn’t make him feel any better.

Sighing, Louis reaches down and grabs Harmony’s hand. “Let’s go check on those cookies, yeah, love?”

The shriek of excitement that escapes Harmony almost makes everything better.

(Almost.)

_. . ._

One of the biggest issues with raising a mischievous two and a half year old-- as Louis has learned over the past few months or so-- is that said two and a half year old likes to hide all of his things. It started out as a cute little habit, but it’s now just become annoying. Especially in this moment, as Louis’ phone just keeps going off, and he has no fucking clue where it is.

And, well. Harmony’s two. It’s not like he can ask her. If he tried, she’d probably just end up smacking him like she usually does.

Louis has resorted to digging around in the couch cushions, which is probably sign that he’s desperate as fuck. Miraculously, however, after temporarily destroying his two couches by tossing their cushions across the room-- were couch cushions the equivalent to couch guts? Had he just gutted his couches?-- he manages to find his phone stuck in the back of his chair.

 _Ha._ Harmony isn’t going to win today. Louis’ proud of himself. Honestly. He is.

He’s so frazzled at this point that Louis barely glances at the phone as he picks it up, giving the unknown number that flashes across it a half-assed read before accepting the call. “Hello?”

“What the fuck, Lou?” A voice snaps.

Louis tenses, glancing around sharply as if he’s somehow going to end this conversation by finding something outside of his window. Fuck. He shouldn’t have answered the phone. “Niall? How the fuck did you get my number? Does-- Does Harry have my number?”

Shit. Shit, _no_.

He can’t let that happen.

Niall clicks his tongue and demands, “you have a daughter?”

“Yes, okay? I have a daughter,” Louis snaps back, running a frustrated hand through his hair and inevitably ruining any effort he’s put into it this morning. “Why did you find my number just to call me and yell at me anyways? Was that really necessary, Niall?”

There’s a resigned silence, and Louis watches Harmony twirl around the room, her hair falling over her shoulder as she giggles wildly, the room almost as lit up by her laughter as it is by the sun. “Who'd you marry, then?” Niall questions carefully.

Louis chokes. Actually chokes. On air. “Wh- _What?"_

Niall makes a frustrated noise, but Louis can't even process it. Niall thinks he's married? What the actual everloving fuck?

“Louis. Come on. You spent six years telling everyone that there was no way you'd have a kid without being married.”

Louis honestly doesn't even recall saying that, but he might have, at some point. He said a lot of dumb things when he was younger. Evidently.

“I’m not married,” he replies, scrunching up his nose. Niall makes another noise, and Louis scoffs. “I was close friends with her mother who died because of an unforeseen complication during childbirth, so will you calm the fuck down, Horan?”

“Oh.” Niall hesitates. The line crackles awkwardly. Great. This is going great. “I’m... I’m sorry, Lou. It’s just you always said-- and... and Harry came to talk to me and he was yelling about you and I don’t know.”

“Yeah. It’s okay, Niall,” Louis offers quietly. “Don’t worry about it.”

Niall makes a sad noise. “Harry said she’s beautiful.”

“She is,” Louis snaps, stiffening a bit. “But you’re not going to tell Harry about any of this conversation, okay? Do you hear me, Niall?”

Louis doesn’t think he’d be able to ever be okay with the idea of Harry knowing about Harmony.

It’s sad, on some level, because Louis had once spent years believing that he’d never have a child in his life without that child being Harry’s as well. He knows better now. Everything has changed enough for him to understand that he was never meant to keep Harry Styles, no matter how much he wanted to. Harry Styles was never meant to be tied down, least of all by someone as unexceptional as him.

“Louis...”

“Her name is Harmony,” Louis mutters. “Harmony Anne Tomlinson. And you’re not going to tell him a single fucking thing about her, do you understand, Niall?”

There’s yet another long moment of silence. Louis stares at Harmony as she dances her way across the room, her laughter bright. It’s warm, warm enough that she had refused to let him put trousers on her this morning, so she’s toddling around in one of her nice dresses, waving her arms about, and she’s the image of sunshine in the form of a human being.

She’s beautiful.

“You named her Harmony?” Niall croaks out. He sounds emotional, and Louis thinks he understands the feeling.

“I did, yeah.”

It shouldn’t feel like a secret.

Niall’s quiet before he lets out a soft huff and mutters, “You should tell him, Louis.”

Louis will absolutely not be doing that.

“No,” Louis says. “No. I’m not going to.”

Niall sighs quietly. Louis would argue with him, but he figures it’s kind of pointless. There’s only so much that he can say, at this point. “You should. You know he’d--”

“No, I don’t. I don’t know what he’d do, Ni.” Louis tugs at his hair, an ineffective and frustrated motion. “She’s not his daughter, Niall. She’s mine. She’s my daughter and just because she exists and I named her Harmony doesn’t mean I need him here. This doesn’t change anything between us.”

It doesn’t change the fact that Louis wants Harry there.

“It changes everything,” Niall argues quietly. Louis can picture the indignant look on his face, and the way he’s surely waving his hands about wildly.

He kind of really misses Niall. Most of the time.

Louis shakes his head. “No,” he whispers. “He’s still a closeted celebrity with a fucking ridiculous amount of fans, and I’m still a nobody drama teacher who’s too flamboyant. I just have a daughter now as well. Harmony doesn’t change why we ended our relationship. Harmony doesn’t change everything that went wrong, Niall.”

“He’s been talking to people about coming out,” Niall argues quietly, and Louis swears his heart breaks a little. The problem in their relationship hadn’t been in the fact that Harry wasn’t able to come out. No, it had been in the fact that he hadn’t even tried to bring it up with anyone. Louis feels tired even thinking about those months of nothing, of barely talking to Harry and seeing him on the rare occasions that he actually decided to come home.

He won’t go through that again.

He can’t go through that again.

“I won’t do it, Niall. You know I can’t.”

“You can, though, Louis. That’s the point.”

Louis sighs. “No. You know it’s not enough, Niall. It doesn’t change the past we have. It doesn’t...” He will absolutely not cry right now. “It doesn’t fix anything that happened between us.”

He’s nothing if not realistic.

Niall sighs his I’m-disappointed-but-I-won’t-argue-with-you sigh, and Louis contemplates whether or not it’d be worth it to hang up on him. Just for a second. He won’t really hang up on Niall.

Probably.

When Niall finally mutters, “Fine. I won’t say anything to Haz,” Louis relaxes, sagging onto the couch before he remembers that there’s no cushion there because _ow, there’s now a fucking spring digging into his arse_.

Still, he smiles slightly and nods. It’s easier to breathe, now. He just needs to move so this spring stops trying to attack him. It’s a vicious little bugger.

“Thanks, Ni,” he whispers, eyes closing. The sunlight is filtering in through the window, Harmony’s giggling nearby, and Niall’s breathing is soft and calm. Louis could fall asleep like this. It’s warm enough out that it almost seems worth it.

“Can I meet her?”

Louis jolts a bit, blinking. “Um. Wh-What?”

“Can I meet her?” Niall asks softly. “I’d love to meet her, Lou. I bet she’s so lovely.”

This really isn’t how Louis expected this phone call to go, but he’s kind of pleasantly surprised by the turn the conversation has taken.

“Um. Yeah. Yeah, you can... You can meet her.”

“Really?” Niall sounds so excited that Louis might actually be close to tears.

“Yeah,” he whispers. “I’m sure she’d love to meet you. She adores people. Honestly, she’s like best friends with Liam at this point, so.”

“I’m sure. She sounds so wonderful, Lou. I always kind of figured your kids would be wonderful, you know? Like when you eventually had them. I don’t think you’re capable of raising a child to be anything other than wonderful,” Niall chatters on.

Louis blinks back tears and sniffles into the phone. “I missed you so much,” Louis whispers quietly. “Fuck, Horan. You’re making me emotional. I hate you so much.”

A watery chuckle is Niall’s response. They sit in silence before Niall pipes up, “I’m free on Friday, if you guys are?”

“Oh. Um, that should work, yeah.”

“Really?” Niall’s voice brightens, and Louis can just picture his smile. Niall always has the most infectious smiles. “That’s awesome, Lou. I, ah. I promise I won’t tell Harry what’s going on.”

“Thanks.” Louis’ shoulders sag. “Erm. Do you want Zayn and Liam to come too? They’d be more than happy to, I’m sure, and I think they’re both off work.”

“That sounds amazing,” Niall offers softly. His voice just radiates warmth, and suddenly Louis can’t wait to be able to hug Niall again. Niall’s hugs are even more like sunshine than his voice is, and he kind of needs some sunshine in his life.

He has Harmony, of course, and Liam and Zayn. His mum and his sisters, when they’re in London. His students, when it’s not summer. Still, though, Louis knows what it’s like to be close to Niall, and he can’t believe he ever let their friendship go.

Louis was dumb back then.

He still is dumb, really.

Louis smiles and mutters, “I’ll see you soon then, Nialler?”

“Yeah.” Niall laughs. He sounds so happy and Louis thinks it’s just so cute. Niall’s just the cute sort, really. “I’ll see you then, Lou.”

“I can’t wait.”

_. . ._

“You should really stop worrying, you know.”

Louis turns to glare at Liam. He can’t help himself. He really, really can’t.

“We should have gone to your flat,” he grumbles quietly. Liam just looks unimpressed, so Louis crosses his arms over his chest-- or, well, he would if there wasn’t a small child cradled against his chest snoring away-- and pouts at him.

Zayn hums softly. “Are you afraid of Niall seeing your house, Louis?”

“No.” Louis winces. “I’m afraid that Harry’s going to show up. I mean... He... He knows where I live. He’s been here before”

And, okay, technically that is Louis’ fault, but that’s kind of besides the point. Maybe. Not really.

Liam fixes him with another exasperated look, and Louis makes a pathetic face back at him. “Harry knows where I live. He knows I have a daughter. I’m fucked. Like... No matter happens from this point on, I’m fucked.”

“I thought you were just fucked the other night, mate. Don’t get too greedy,” Zayn offers and Liam does that thing where he laughs into his hand, like he hopes Louis won’t notice he’s laughing if he moves his hand up to distract him. Louis may or may not want to kill the both of them.

Fuck this.

“I fucking hate both of you.”

“No you don’t.” Zayn winks at him, laughter tugging his lips upwards.

“I really wish I could hate both of you,” Louis tries instead. He frowns at Zayn and Liam, daring them to make fun of him, but they both seem to accept his statement, just nodding along easily.

Louis’ about to find something to yell at the two of them for when a loud knock sounds from down the hallway. Harmony startles awake, blinking drowsily up at him. Her bottom lip trembles, and Louis melts. He can’t help it. She’s bloody adorable and she means the world to him, so his heart turning to mush whenever she does something sweet is really just a natural reaction.

“Oh, babe,” he whispers to her. “It’s alright, little love. I’m sure whoever’s at the door didn’t mean to startle you.”

She seems entirely unimpressed with that response. After pouting at him for far too long for his heart to handle, Harmony just mumbles, “Bad noise,” and presses her face back into his shirt.

Louis coos. He can’t help it. He just has the cutest daughter in the world. It’s not a big deal.

“I know, love. It’s okay, though. Don’t worry about it. We’ll make sure you’re alright.” He adjusts Harmony in his arms so he can brush some of her hair away from her face. She just lets out little puffs of air, jabbing at his sides with her tiny little hands.

With his free hand, Louis reaches out to open the door, his hand gripping tightly at the know. The metal is cold in his hands, but it grounds him, the coldness contrasting with the warmth of the day and the warmth of Harmony in his arms. He pulls the door towards him, grinning a bit as it opens enough for him to lock eyes with Niall.

Niall makes the most pathetic whimper and whispers, “Fuck, Lou.”

Louis makes a scandalized noise, but he’s biting back a grin. “Don’t curse in front of my daughter, you heathen.”

The words seem to throw Niall off for a second-- maybe it’s just that Louis’ saying the word daughter now while he holds said child in his arms for Niall to see or just that Niall is a mess-- before he’s laughing, tumbling into the house and clinging to Louis’ arms, careful not to disturb Harmony. Harmony looks up from Louis’ shirt anyways, a frown tugging her lips down. She takes a brief moment to consider Niall before she reaches out and tugs at his hair.

Niall squawks and tries to duck out from Harmony’s reach. He’s unsuccessful, which Louis expected. Harmony may be tiny and harmless looking, but she has a fierce grip. It’s vicious, really. “Um.” He twitches and pokes Harmony’s hand. “Hey there. What are you doing?”

“Soft,” Harmony narrates, still yanking at Niall’s hair. “Sunny.”

“Sunny?” Niall twists his head as much as he can to look at Louis, frowning. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Your hair is yellow,” Louis offers, shifting Harmony in his arms so she can’t grab at Niall’s hair anymore. He can’t help but smile. “So it’s the color of the sunshine. So, uh. Sunny, I geuss.”

The explanation only seems to make Niall melt, his eyes going all heart-like and his expression doing this weird gooey thing that Louis can’t even begin to explain. “She’s adorable.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Don’t feed her ego, Horan.”

“She’s like... two, Lou. How can you feed a two year old’s ego?”

“Ah.” Louis winks at Niall, inclining his head towards the room where Zayn and Liam are still watching whatever Disney movie Harmony picked earlier. Niall follows the direction without question, and Louis bumps the door shut with his hip before moving after him. “Never underestimate a Tomlinson, Niall. That’s just a dumb move.”

“Niall!”

Zayn manages to land himself in Niall’s arms the second they enter the room. Harmony startles out of her not-quite awake state, jerking in Louis’ arms and frowning at Zayn. Liam moves to hug Niall as well, wrapping his arms around both him and Zayn so they’re all stuck in the middle of a ridiculous group hug.

It’s adorable, really, and the fact that Hakuna Matata is currently playing in the background only causes Louis to giggle quietly into Harmony’s hair.

“It’s so good to see you again, mate.” Liam beams at Niall.

“Yeah.” Niall’s expression is so soft and fond. “We-- uh. I really missed you guys too, you know. It’s so weird being without you lot.”

Louis tries his hardest to ignore Niall’s little slip-up, but there’s an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach.

_We._

It’s no secret who Niall was referring to, and Louis can’t deny that everything does feel different without Harry there. It’s not wonder, really. Harry’s always such a strong presence in any room, tall and curly and light, always commanding attention.

Or maybe it’s just Louis’ attention that Harry always has the ability to obtain without difficulty.

Zayn clears his throat awkwardly, making a bit of a face. “Yeah, well. Things are kinda different now anyways, aren’t they?”

“Course they are,” Niall agrees, making a face back at Zayn. He seems to catch onto what Zayn’s doing-- _let’s not talk about Harry_ is the general sentiment that Louis can gather because he’s not fucking blind, thanks-- and he focuses his attention on Louis, beaming at him. “Louis’ got a daughter now.”

“Yeah, well.” Louis laughs a little bit, his mouth tilting to the side. He presses a kiss to Harmony’s hair. “You guys can talk about him, you know.” He ignores the startled looks that are sent his way. “He’s not fucking Voldemort. We can say his name and all.”

“You... You made a Harry Potter reference.” Liam looks a little weepy. Louis would probably smack him if his arms weren’t full of squirming child. “Louis, I’m so proud of you.” Louis groans out “shut the fuck up,” and sighs.

“Look,” he continues. He doesn’t want to say any of this, but it has to be said at some point. “I know that things were... were really bad after everything that happened, and I’m sure they were, ah, bad for him too.” He shoots a wary look at Niall. “And I don’t think I’m entirely over it but I don’t think I’ll ever be. It’s okay. We can talk about him and you can say his name. I won’t break.”

“This may be the maturest I’ve ever seen you act, Lou,” Zayn pats his shoulder. Louis shoots a quick look at Harmony to make sure she isn’t watching and flips Zayn off.

Liam just looks concerned. “But... Even after everything that happened the other night? Like... You know. You’re still okay with us talking about him? Wouldn’t that kind of change everything?”

Louis flops out on the couch for a momentary distraction, and Harmony takes it upon herself to sit right on his stomach. He whines, but she just giggles. Of course.

“It doesn’t change anything.” Louis turns his gaze to the window, his eyes a little blank. “Liam. I know... I know you don’t ever want to see me like that again, but it’s fine. I’m okay. Nothing has changed. I don’t think anything can really change, at this point.”

“Why did you two even break up?” Niall pipes up suddenly. Louis turns to look at him, brow furrowing as he watches Niall grab his daughter and swing her around the room. Harmony laughs and claps her hands, so Niall continues to spin her around, laughing along with her. However, he still directs enough attention to Louis to continue, “Harry never talked about it. Whenever somebody said your name he’d either look like he was going to cry or lock himself in a room to write songs and stuff.”

Louis sighs. It wasn’t a surprise that Harry hadn’t talk about the reasons behind their breakup. Louis hadn’t either. Not even Liam and Zayn knew exactly why he and Harry had split. Louis had always told them that it was just too hard to think about, and then Harmony had come into their lives and successfully distracted everyone. He knows he should explain himself. That knowledge just really doesn’t make anything easier, though.

“Um.” Louis clears his throat and shrugs. “It was just... A lot. He was gone all the time and getting pictured with girls constantly and it got to the point that we barely talked and... I think it was really the last thing either of us wanted, but he kept refusing to even try and talk to his team about coming out and I was just miserable and I... I couldn’t do it anymore.”

The room is silent, and Louis can feel three sets of eyes on him, but he can’t bring himself to look up at any of his friends.

Niall makes a noise in the back of his throat. “You know he’s planning to come out soon, right?”

“Wh-” Louis coughs, choking on air. “Wh-What are you talking about, Niall?”

Niall pauses, frowning. He’s momentarily distracted as Harmony starts yanking at his hair again, but he finally distracts her and turns his attention towards Louis. “He’s been fighting for it for a few years now, I think, but his management wouldn’t let him. He’s in the process of switching teams right now, though, so he’s hoping that he’ll be out of the closet within a month or two, I think.”

The entire axis of the world has kind of shifted a bit, and Louis feels so (so, so) proud of Harry, but also a little sick to his stomach. It’s a feeling that he finds he really dislikes. Harry deserves this. He does. Harry deserves the whole world, really, and Louis has always been aware of that. He still wishes, kind of selfishly, that this could have happened when he and Harry had been together.

Louis had never wanted to give Harry up.

Sometimes, Louis still wakes up and imagines that he’s curled around Harry instead of his pillow. Sometimes, he imagines what it would be like to raise Harmony with Harry.

Even after so many years, Harry still tastes like home, and Louis wants to make that reality come true more than anything else. He always has.

It’s never really been a possibility, is the thing.

“Oh,” he breathes out. “Right. Good for him.”

Liam frowns. “Louis. You know this... this changes things, right?”

Of course.

Louis flinches. “I’m not going to seek him out, Liam. I still have a daughter and she needs stability in her life. I can’t spend the rest of my life chasing after Harry fucking Styles.”

“Hey,” Niall whines softly. “How come you get to cuss and I don’t? What kind of b-- crap is that?”

“Sorry.” Louis shakes himself, swallowing. “I don’t know. If he... If he comes to me maybe we’ll talk or something. I don’t know. Don’t say anything to him.”

Niall shakes his head, beaming. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he assures brightly. Louis sweeps in to grab Harmony from Niall’s arms, shaking his head tiredly. Niall’s probably lying, of course, but he doesn’t care enough to point that out right now. He doesn’t want to think about Harry any longer. “Don’t worry, Lou. I’m sure everything will work out in the end.”

“Yeah,” Louis agrees. “I’m sure. Can we watch that movie now?”

Zayn and Liam do their couple-communicating thing for a brief moment-- all eyebrows and lip purses and vague shoulder movements-- before they turn away from each other to smile at him.

“Sure. What movie does Miss Harm want to watch now?”

Harmony looks up at the sound of her name, and Louis sets her down so she can toddle over to the case of DVDs that’s sitting on the table. She flips through aimlessly, and then points.

“This one, Uncle Leem,” she demands.

Liam peers into the case and frowns. “Um. Die Hard, huh? That’s great material for a two year old to be watching.”

Shit.

“Sorry,” Louis swipes the disc out of the thin plastic casing and flushes. “I must’ve put it in the wrong case. Sorry, sorry. Uh. Make her pick another one, will you?”

Liam snorts. “Sure thing. Z, babe, will you go and make some popcorn?”

“Yeah, sure thing.” Zayn pulls himself up from the chair and moves to the kitchen. He drags his feet a bit, giving off that sleepy vibe that he always seems to drift into when they have movie days.

Niall whines from the sofa. “We should just watch Die Hard, lads. She’s two, it’s not like she’d understand any of it.”

Louis ignores Niall’s squabbling and Liam chatting to Harmony and just sinks into the cushion, his eyes fluttering closed. Everything is warm and soft right now-- the good kind of soft, the sort that he had missed so much after Harry had left-- and he sighs a bit. Everything’s okay now, and for just a short second, he even allows himself to hope that Niall might be right.

Maybe everything else will turn out alright too, in the end.

_. . ._

Weekends without Harmony around are rare.

Usually, Louis spends most of his weekends curled around his daughter, reading her stories and singing Disney songs to her. Their weekends usually end up as sing-a-longs, and that’s always been fine with Louis. He quite enjoys it, actually. Peaceful moments with Harmony are always his favorite moments.

This weekend, however, his mother-- on the basis that Doris and Ernest had a completely free weekend and ought to spend time with their niece-- had taken Harmony for the whole weekend. Normally, Louis would have been immensely thankful, but he really doesn’t have much work to do over the next few days, and now he’s got nothing to do.

It’s Friday evening and Louis already feels bored.

He doesn’t even remember the last time he’s been alone like this. He can’t even call up Zayn and Liam, because they’re in Wolverhampton visiting Liam’s family for the weekend. Niall’s off doing god knows what-- he’s busy, though, the fucker; Louis already tried calling him-- so Louis has found himself curled up under a blanket on his couch, a box of Chinese take-out perched on his lap as he half-watches Beauty and the Beast. He’d been too lazy to change from the DVD player to the actual television, so he’s stuck with the last movie Harmony had wanted to watch.

Not that Louis really minds. Beauty and the Beast is a pretty good movie, so he’s content to let it be his soundtrack for the evening.

Louis sighs softly, flipping through his phone again.

Holy fuck, he’s bored.

Louis’ about halfway through Beauty and the Beast and has officially reached the point of being (a tad bit) thankful that he’s alone, because at least no one is there to witness his rather embarrassing sing-a-long complete with dance moves and everything, when he hears a knock at his door.

Sighing, Louis drags himself up from the couch, arching his back in an attempt to stretch out his aching muscles. He moves slowly, pressing a hand to his mouth to cover a yawn as he reaches the door, opening it without checking first to see who was disturbing his quiet evening in.

Really, Louis probably should have learned from the number of times his carelessness has inconvenienced him, but he’s just let the exact same thing happen once again.

A part of him isn’t even really that surprised to see who’s standing at his front door.

“Louis,” Harry blurts out. Louis moves to shut the door, but Harry’s foot is already wedged in between it and the frame. “I’m sorry. Hi. Just... Fuck, we need to talk, Louis.”

Louis doesn’t want to, is the thing.

It’s not even because he doesn’t want to figure things out with Harry or that he’s giving up. It’s just that Louis has been through plenty of shit thanks to how things turned out between him and Harry, and Louis is fucking scared.

Terrified, really.

Nonetheless, he can’t really find the strength to pick a fight right now, and Harmony isn’t home to come interrupt them, so Louis moves to the side, his shoulders sagging.

“Come in.”

Harry looks nervous, but moves past him anyways. He stumbles as he enters the house, and Louis definitely does not find it endearing. Absolutely not. Louis shifts, not really wanting to follow, but he closes the door and moves towards his living room anyways.

“Um.” Harry coughs awkwardly and then shrugs, tilting his head to the side. “Sorry. I don’t-- I guess I don’t know where to start, even though I know this needs to happen.”

Louis shrugs, his whole body tensing up. “Start wherever you think is best.”

Harry turns to stare at him, his eyes narrowed. Louis can already tell that this isn’t going to well. “You named your daughter Harmony?”

Of fucking course.

“Fucking Niall,” Louis swore. “Of course he would.” He’s not really angry, not even really surprised, but Louis still feels bitter. Niall had made him a promise, after all. Louis thinks he’s got a right to be a little bit pissed off. “He promised me he wouldn’t fucking tell you.”

Harry looks stunned. His eyes are wide and his mouth is hanging open and he seems to shrink in on himself. It’s almost comical, really, but nothing about the situation they’re in is amusing at all, so Louis can’t bring himself to even smile. “You... You really named her-- that’s what-- why would you do that? Louis, what the fuck?”

He’s going to kill Niall.

Louis crosses his arms over his chest and huffs. “I--” Fuck. “I know things ended... Not well between us, but it’s not like that stopped how I felt about you, okay?”

“What?”

Louis can’t stand the way Harry’s staring at him, all fear and hope and confusion. He moves to sit down, pulling his blanket back up over his lap. Anything to give him an excuse to look away from Harry, even if it’s just for a few seconds. Finally, he sighs and glances back up.

Harry hasn’t even moved.

“I’m.. You know,” Louis whispers. “You _know_ , Harry. I won’t say it. Not right now. Too much has changed for that, but _you know_.”

Harry moves a hand towards him, his fingers outstretched. He seems to hesitate as Louis falters, but he doesn’t retract his hand.

They stare at each other for what Louis deems a fucking eternity-- he's never been the sort of person to hold back on the dramatics-- before Harry replies, “Yeah. Me too.”

“Oh.”

Which-- okay, this consensus they’ve now reached is brilliant, but they’re now just sitting here awkwardly and Louis doesn’t really know what to say. Harry kind of leaves him speechless a lot of them time, but right now he wishes he could come up with words.

“I want to try,” Harry blurts out suddenly. “If... If you want to as well.”

Louis lifts his head to look at Harry, a frown tugging the corners of his lips downwards. “What are you talking about?”

“I...” Harry shrugs, shaking himself. “I’m coming out to the general public in just a few months. The plan is already in place and I trust my new team enough to know that they won’t change that plan. And I... I want to try again, Louis. With you. With... Us.”

A piece of Louis cries out, and he isn’t sure if it’s due to fear or the residual pain.

“It’s not that easy,” Louis whispers. “You know it’s not that easy, Harry.”

“It could be, though.”

“It can’t.” Louis’ shaking. This is everything he’s wanted for years, everything he still wants, and he’s still saying no. Fuck. He hates this. “I have a daughter now, Harry.”

Harry pauses and finally draws his hand back. He probably only does it because his hand is starting to go numb or something, but Louis thinks that part of him breaks again, and he wants nothing more than to curl around Harry and melt into him. Louis wants to hold Harry and breathe him in, just to be surrounded by the scent of him. Louis wants to press kisses into Harry’s neck and shoulder until the taste of his lips sits just under the surface of Harry’s skin, leaving permanent reminders of everything that the two of them have ever shared.

He doesn’t move from the couch.

“Right.” Harry’s shoulders sag, and the look of defeat that’s written across the lines of his face is so wrong that Louis almost launches himself off of the couch to grab him.

Louis can’t bring himself to do that, so he does the next best thing, even if it’s a really fucking stupid thing to do.

“We have to take this slow.”

Harry jerks around, spinning on his heel to look at him. He looks so vulnerable, his eyes lost and his hands tangled through his curls. “Wh-What?”

This is such a bad idea, but Louis can’t bring himself to take it back. He can’t pretend any longer, so he’s given up completely on pretending that he doesn’t want Harry back. It’s dumb that he even tried to ignore that in the first place. He’s done being tired and lonely. He’s so so done with missing the parts of him that Harry took with him when he left.

He shrugs, choppy and awkward.

They were never meant to be like this, and no matter how terrifying it is Louis still has a chance to fix this, so he’s going to take the leap.

Harry’s still staring at him, though, so Louis swallows and explains, “If we... If we do this... If we try again, then we have to take it slow, Harry. It’s-- It’s been a while and both of us have changed and I have a daughter to think about and... Stuff.”

Yeah, Louis prides himself on being really eloquent.

“You-- You mean it?” Harry breathes out. He looks like he’s about to cry, and this time Louis doesn’t stop himself from moving towards Harry. He tangles their finger together, looking at the small part where the two of them are intertwined.

It feels right.

“Yeah.” Louis squeezes Harry’s hand. “I mean it.”

Harry nods, his bottom lip trembling. “Um... Are you free in the next few days, then? For a date or something?”

Louis said slow, yes, but Harmony is gone for the weekend, and that's kind of a rare opportunity. He pokes at the carpet, wiggling his big toe through the hole in his sock. Louis clears his throat and turns to look at Harry.

“I want a date tomorrow night. If you're free.” Louis looks away, running his fingers over the faux leather of his couch. It’s smooth and cool to the touch. He figures that just because he’s all sweaty and panicky. “And, erm. You could stay for a bit and continue my Disney movie marathon with me, if you wanted.”

Harry’s face goes from shocked to pleasantly amused in two seconds flat. “I am free tomorrow,” he replies politely, going for a kind of apathetic effortlessness that Louis will never be fooled by because he's not an idiot.

“Good.” Louis’ lips quirk up into a smirk. “As you’re super rich now I expect a really fancy meal and everything. At a classy restaurant that requires a reservation. You know, the likes.”

Harry rolls his eyes, but he nods. “Sure, Lou. Anything for you.”

Louis’ stomach is doing something weird, but he chooses to ignore that and just coughs instead. “And, er, about tonight?”

Harry sniffs, looking every bit a snob, and Louis knows exactly what’s coming. They had this little routine, back when they were still together, and it’s kind of nice to know that Louis isn’t the only one who remembers every word of it. “I’ll only stay for your Disney marathon if you turn on Newsies next.”

At the very least, even if everything between them has changed, Louis can take comfort in the fact that their dumb little routines probably never will.

“Newsies,” Louis scoffs. He crosses his arms over his chest and bites back his smile. He refuses to smile right now. “You’re the only person in the fucking world who likes that movie.”

Harry gasps, but he’s grinning, and Louis can’t help but run his thumb over the bumps of Harry’s knuckles. “Louis, they remade it into a broadway musical because people asked them to, I’m not the only person in the world who likes the movie.”

“You’re a liar,” Louis returns, but he goes to the case of DVDs that sits on the back of his shelf and extracts Newsies from it. If anyone asks, he’ll argue that he kept the disc because he’s a sentimental and not because he actually enjoys the movie, because Louis happens to be stubborn as fuck.

Harry settles down on the couch and steals Louis’ blanket. Louis would yell at him, but he’s giggling, and he can’t find it within himself to ruin the moment. He just puts the disc in the player without a word and moves back to the couch, stealing the blanket from Harry and wrapping it around himself again.

“You know,” Harry offers as the movie start, “your anger would be more convincing if you didn’t know the words to every song in this movie.”

Just as he’s about to argue, Harry’s arm sneaks around his shoulder and drags Louis into his side, and Louis thinks he might be melting. Just a little bit. Or a lot. He’s kind of become a puddle, somehow. It’s actually really pathetic.

Harry’s already humming along as the first jaunty tune starts up, and Louis makes a mental note to sing every song wrong just to spite him. Louis isn’t above being petty, and he’s always quite enjoyed finding ways to prove Harry wrong.

And if he gives up on trying to spite Harry only twenty minutes into the movie on the grounds that Harry’s smile is so hopeful and being in Harry’s arms feels too much like home to spoil the moment, then nobody else has to know.

_. . ._

Louis had been mostly joking about the fancy restaurant thing. Honestly. He hadn’t expected anything, especially considering that last minute reservations for a Saturday were kind of difficult, but Harry’s waiting at his doorstep on Saturday night dressed in a sheer shirt and skinny jeans with his hair all done up nonetheless.

“Hi,” Harry greets him. He beams, his eyes crinkling just the smallest bit.

Louis wants to kiss him more than anything, but he holds himself back. “Hey,” he greets in return, adjusting his blazer carefully. “Am I underdressed or something?”

“You’re beautiful.”

When Harry winks at him, Louis just rolls his eyes. “You didn’t even look at what I’m wearing, you dumbass.”

Harry doesn’t even respond to that. He just grabs Louis’ hand and tangles their fingers together, and Louis loses his ability to speak properly, so he just stutters over his words awkwardly and waves his free hand in vague motions that make no sense.

He’s a mess. It’s confirmed now, for sure.

“I didn’t need to,” Harry offers as he pulls Louis out of his house. Louis barely has time to close the door behind him before Harry is dragging him down to where a car is waiting, idling on the street. “You look beautiful no matter what you wear, and nobody will say anything about whether your clothes meet a nonexistent dress code.”

Louis frowns. Harry doesn’t seem to understand that he’s genuinely a bit concerned about this. “What if they do, though?”

“If they do then I’ll just sue them.” Harry smirks and shrugs at him. Louis smacks him, complaining quite loudly about how dumb Harry is, but Harry just grins and pulls him into the back of the car with him anyways.

They sit in silence for a few minutes, letting the soft hum of the radio and the car lull them into a comfortable quiet.

The silence is something Louis can only stand for so long, however, so he just quirks his lips upwards and turns to look Harry in the eye. “You know, you didn’t need to actually do something this fancy. I would have been fine with another movie night.”

Harry hums quietly, his fingers running over Louis’ hand carefully. Louis twitches. “You asked, though. And I want to give you everything you ask for, babe.”

That’s just fucking unfair.

“Stop trying to seduce me.”

“What?” Harry splutters out a laugh, and Louis frowns at him. Their knees brush against each other, and Louis melts inside. “I’m not trying to seduce you.”

Louis clicks his tongue disbelievingly. “You were using that tone of voice. I’m not an idiot, Mr. Styles. I know what your deep raspy thing leads to.”

Harry gives him a look that’s a bit confused but mostly just amused as the car takes a sharp turn left, and Louis slides a bit into Harry. Whoops.

“I’m an innocent thing,” Louis offers briefly. “Don’t ruin that for me.”

“To be honest,” Harry drawls, “I think I ruined that for you years ago, Louis.”

Louis turns red. He can’t help it.

“Shut the fuck up.” He frowns when Harry laughs quietly, his eyes narrowing into a glare.

This shouldn’t be as embarrassing as it feels like it is.

Harry looks like he’s about to say something, but the car comes to a stop, and the driver-- yeah, Louis had kind of forgot there’s been someone in the car with them this whole time, which is kind of embarrassing-- turns around to smile politely at them.

“We’re here, gentlemen,” the driver offers easily. “Mr. Styles, I’ll be around all night, so give me a call when you’d like a ride back to your homes. Or... Home.”

Louis might turn even more red at that comment, but he’s a self-respecting gentleman with way too much pride, so he chooses to ignore that little inconsequential fact.

“Thanks, Mike.” Harry smiles that charming grin of his with the dimples, and he slides out of the car, holding the door open for Louis to follow after him.

“Oh, what a gentlemen.” Louis can’t help but tease. For a quick second he wonders if he’s overstepped some boundary, but then Harry’s laughing, his smile crinkling the corners of his eyes, and Louis relaxes. “You really didn’t have to do all this, you know. I would have been just fine with takeout and bad movies.”

Harry stops right before the door to the restaurant, his head tilted to the side. They’re silent for a moment, and then Harry just smiles. “We’ll do that next time, babe.”

Louis’ heart feels all melty and warm. Which is dumb, because he shouldn’t be acting like a teenager with a crush. Then again, Harry has always done that to him, so Louis really doesn’t know why he’s surprised. He shouldn’t be.

Nonetheless, he gathers himself and snootily replies, “good,” before moving past Harry into the dimly lit building. Harry follows close behind him, reaching out to wrap an arm around Louis’ shoulders. The only thing Louis does is curl into him, sighing softly into the soft material of Harry’s shirt.

Yeah, okay. Screw going slow. Louis is totally fucked over Harry Styles. Already. Again.

Still, maybe. He doesn’t even know.

What Louis does know, though, is that he’s probably going to make a fool of himself tonight, but he’ll survive it, just as long as Harry keeps smiling at him like that.

Harry’s talking to the hostess, and Louis begins to wonder how he was ever able to live without this. It’s not that he needs Harry-- no, Louis is strong and independent and all he really needs is himself and his daughter-- but the amount of pure want that pounds in his chest when he looks at Harry is enough to make him breathless. It’s the loveliest kind of aching, and he doesn’t know how he ever gave it up.

I’m so in love with you, Louis thinks as Harry turns to smile at him, and, for the first time in a long time, Louis is completely okay with that feeling.

Niall was actually right, for once.

Louis is going to be just fine.

_. . ._

They leave the restaurant just shy of tipsy, giggling and warm. Louis feels full, stuffed to the brim with food and happiness, and he’s content to just be throughout the whole ride to his place.

He kind of forgets that Mike is there again and maybe behaves embarrassingly, but the driver is-- thankfully-- too kind to point that out to him.

It doesn’t take them all that long to reach Louis’ house, and the disappointment only grows within him when the car pulls to a stop by his place.

He doesn’t want Harry to leave.

Of course, because Louis is kind of dumb and really in love, the split second decision he makes is an easy one, and it really doesn’t extended further than a rather not at all eloquent thought of _fuck going slow, that was the worst idea you’ve ever had_.

Harry clears his throat, his fingers trailing up Louis’ side to grip at his hip. The touch maybe makes him a bit weak in the knees.

“I’ll walk you to the door,” Harry finally offers.

Yeah, that’s not going to fly.

“Do you want to just come in instead?” Louis blurts out.

Harry jerks back, a startled look on his face. “Um... Sorry?”

Louis shifts awkwardly. “Do you want to come in, er, my house with, uh, me, maybe?”

They’re both still for a moment, and Louis is beginning to curse himself for ruining everything when Harry reaches a hand out to grasp his wrist just as he’s moving to try and flee. Louis stills, but doesn’t bother to pull away from Harry’s grasp. He’s done enough of that to last a lifetime, and he’s sick of pretending he doesn’t want Harry with every fiber of his being.

“I thought you wanted to take this slow,” Harry mutters, his face twisting in confusion.

Louis makes eye contact with his shoes. They’re quite a lovely pair of shoes. His best pair, actually. “I’m still in love with you,” he admits quietly.

“What?”

When he glances up, he’s greeted with Harry’s startled face. Louis makes an aborted motion with his hand, all fluttery and awkward. He kind of expected Harry to have a better response than what, but he figures it isn’t fair of him to ask for more.

“I’m still really in love with you,” Louis repeats. He’d thought that this was kind of obvious, but evidently Harry’s just fucking blind. “I’ve kind of always been, I think. And... And I was afraid. But I’m not really afraid anymore, I guess.”

Harry frowns, but Louis can tell it’s just because he’s hesitating. He doesn’t regret anything. Or, at least, Louis hopes he doesn’t. “You don’t care about going slow, though?”

Louis rolls his eyes. Well, at least Harry will still always treat him like a fragile princess, no matter what he does. “I’m not asking you to move in with Harmony and I. I’m telling you that you can spend the night. And that we can... We can call this dating. I’m not scared of that anymore.”

“Really? You’re sure?” This man, honestly. If he didn’t look so genuinely concerned, Louis probably would have tried to kick his ass to New Zealand and back by now. It’s kind of endearing, though, so he lets it slide. For now.

“I’m sure,” he says. Louis turns his gaze back to Harry and pokes at his arm a few times. “So just come inside already, yeah?”

The blush that’s taken over Harry’s face makes Louis feel triumphant, and the feeling only grows when Harry nods and follows him out of the car and into his house.

Louis blinks slowly. Great. Okay. Harry’s in his house with him. Now what does he do?

 _You really didn’t think this one through, Tomlinson,_ he thinks to himself.

“Do you want to go upstairs or do you just want to watch movies again?” Harry’s voice breaks him out of his internal freak out, and Louis turns to look at him, frowning a bit.

After a bit of consideration, Louis lifts his shoulder in a shrug.

“Take me to bed, Styles.”

Harry cracks a grin as he reaches out and grabs Louis’ hand, pulling him up the stairs. Somehow, Harry’s kind-of-drunken memory must be spot on, because he remembers how to navigate his way to Louis’ room, even though he’s only been there once before.

Louis really doesn’t care. He’s too busy kissing and biting at Harry’s neck just because he can to think about anything else. He’s just shy of tipsy, he’s with the man he loves, and Louis is going to give him the hickey of a lifetime to make up for lost time. Harry’s always liked presents, after all. He deserves this. Louis is sure of it.

They stumble, banging against the door of Louis’ bedroom, and he groans, pulling back to glare at Harry.

He’s greeted with Harry smiling sheepishly at him. “Sorry.”

Louis just rolls his eyes, reaching behind him to where the doorknob is digging into his back, and claws at the cool metal until he’s able to twist it. The door swings open and Louis trips backwards, landing on his arse on the floor.

Of course, because Louis has the worst luck of anyone in the world, he’s still holding tightly onto Harry, who stumbles with him and lands on top of him.

“Ow,” Louis whines. “Fuck, get off of me.”

Harry huffs. “Sorry, sorry.” He rolls to the side as Louis tries to smack him.

They’re both quiet for a few seconds before Harry starts giggling. “God,” he says, “we’re both failing miserably at being sexy right now, aren’t we?”

“That’s bloody offensive,” Louis scoffs. He pouts, moving away from Harry and settling down onto his bed. “I’m always sexy, Harold. Fucking deal with it.”

Harry finally deems it time to get off of Louis’ floor, and he drags himself upwards, crawling onto the bed to join Louis. “Sorry, babe.” He chuckles a bit. “I know you’re always sexy. Didn’t mean to damage your poor ego.”

If Louis wasn’t about to get laid and hadn’t missed Harry like mad over the past few years, he would probably be plotting ways to murder him and dump his body without getting caught right about now. As he is about to get laid, though, he’s in a forgiving mood (for now, at least), so Louis doesn’t say anything, just strips himself of his own shirt before moving to unbutton Harry’s trousers.

“Oh, I like where this is heading.”

Harry looks so smug, and Louis can’t help but reach out and smack him for it. “Asshole,” he grumbles half-heartedly. His complaining ceases when Harry pulls his shirt off and kicks his trousers off in quick succession, leaving Louis completely speechless, his mouth hanging wide open. He recovers quickly, reaching for Harry’s pants, a small smirk growing at his lips. When the material is stripped off of Harry completely, Louis finds himself glancing upwards, his lips quirking up into a smile.

“At least your cock hasn’t changed,” Louis observes dryly. He makes eye contact with Harry and arches an eyebrow, his smile widening into a smirk.

Harry snorts, a grin tugging his lips upwards. “Were you expecting it to wildly change over the past two weeks? Or were you just so drunk that you don’t remember anything about that night?”

The asshole is smirking, which clearly means he knows that Louis was barely tipsy, but Harry also knows him well enough to know that Louis would never admit to that.

Louis may or may not flick him in the forehead. He’s entirely satisfied with the pathetic whine Harry offers in return. “Shut the fuck up or I’m not going to blow you, Styles.”

Harry muffles his laugh by pressing his hand over his mouth. It’s ridiculously endearing, and Louis kind of wants to curl around him and never move. He’s managed to fuck this up before, and he doesn’t think he’ll be able to survive a second major fuck up.

“I’ll be quiet, I promise.” Harry winks at him, still fighting off giggles. “I’ll behave and everything.”

Louis’ getting ready to move downwards when another thought occurs to him. It causes him to sit back on his heels, silk sheets brushing against his thighs as he offers, “I don’t want to blow you.”

“Oh.” The startled look on Harry’s face is amusing, actually. Louis lets him sweat for a moment, just because he can. “Um. Do you want to just sleep, then?”

“No.” Louis kicks his trousers off, flicking his ankle so the material tumbles to the floor. “I want you to fuck me.”

Harry draws in a sharp breath, his eyes widening. “Oh. _Oh_. Really?”

“Mmm.” He smirks, dragging the pads of his fingers up Harry’s thighs just to watch the way it makes Harry shiver. “As long as you promise to be good for me. Otherwise I won't let you lay a finger on me.”

“Shit.” Large hands are gripping at his hips and Louis arches into the touch, a smirk growing on his lips. “You’re still such a power bottom. I forgot how sexy that is. _Fuck,_ Lou.”

Louis may or may not giggle, but he’s definitely going to pretend it never happened. Instead, he just taps Harry’s thigh. “Are you going to be a good boy for me, or do I need to tie you up so you stay still?”

The look on Harry’s face makes Louis want to laugh all over again. He looks like he’s having something of a religious experience. Then again, as long as he plans to worship Louis, Louis doesn’t really mind it. Actually, he quite encourages it.

“I’ll be good,” Harry whines. “I will.”

Louis leans up and bites at Harry’s earlobe. “Good,” he whispers, voice low and thick with lust. “Hands up then, babe. Don’t let go of the headboard. You can do that for me, yeah?”

The grip on his hips loosens and disappears, and Harry raises his hands to grab the metal bed frame without complaint. Louis hums, shifting away from Harry to just look at him. It’s been a long time since he’s had a view as good as this one, and he’s going to take a few minutes to savor it. He only moves when Harry starts whining, causing Louis to giggle a bit as reaches over to his bedside table to get a few necessities.

“You’re still a needy little thing, aren’t you, baby boy?”

Harry honestly looks like he’s about to lose his shit. Louis takes pity on him and shuffles upwards to kiss him. The kiss is slow, entirely calm, and he’s kind of certain that he can just feel the love between them. It never really left, after all. No matter what they go through, or how long they’re without each other, Louis knows he’ll always love Harry, and he strongly suspects that Harry feels the same. When Louis pulls away, Harry pouts at him, and Louis makes sure to run his fingers through Harry’s curls, tugging lightly at them.

Harry moans and breathes out, “you’re a fucking tease.”

“Hm, I was going to take pity on you.” Louis clicks his tongue and pulls away from Harry, settling himself down closer to Harry’s spread legs. “But now I think I’m going to be even more of a tease. So you get to watch while I get myself ready for you, and you don’t get to move at all, or I won’t ride you. You got that, love?”

“Fuck. Fuck, yeah, okay.”

Louis grasps the bottle of lube, shifting himself a bit so that he’s settled on his knees. He’s always been a complete tease, after all, and the point of this is to drive Harry mad. Of course Louis’ going to give him the best view of everything he’s about to do.

Once he’s settled in a comfortable position, Louis glances over his shoulder and smirks at Harry. “You okay up there, baby boy?”

“Fuck off,” Harry replies amiably.

Louis laughs softly. “Do you want me to punish you later?”

A noise that’s somewhere between a whimper and a moan is all that leaves Harry, so Louis sends him a wink before returning to the task at hand.

He coats his fingers with a fairly liberal amount of lube-- Louis has had sex since he and Harry broke-up, obviously, seeing as that was around four years ago, but it’s been quite a few months since he’s done much of anything with himself, much less slept with someone else, besides that night a few weeks ago with Harry. (Protip: one night-stands are really difficult when one has a two and a half year old to look after)-- and slowly presses his finger against his hole. A soft whine falls from him at the feeling of the familiar pressure.

Oh, fuck yes.

“You look so fucking pretty.”

“Yeah? You think I’m pretty, baby?” Louis breathes. Harry makes a noise of agreement just as Louis pushes his finger into himself slowly, shifting his hips around. “Fuck,” he breathes out. “Haven’t done this in so long.”

“I wanna touch you, Lou,” Harry groans, and Louis shudders, dragging his finger in and out of himself. “Want to make you fall apart. Please, Louis. Please.”

Louis forces a breathless laugh from his lungs and moves another finger inside himself, whining high in his throat. “Keep begging, baby, and I might just let you.”

Harry falls silent, though, just watching as Louis fingers himself. Louis doesn’t mind, really, because he knows that Harry is watching him. He can practically feel the weight of Harry’s stare on him. Louis has always been a show off, though, so he’s enjoying it a lot. Having Harry’s full attention focused on him is always pleasant.

Just as he’s pushing a third finger inside himself, he hears Harry’s breathing pick up pace, and then Harry rumbles out, “fuck, I missed you, Lou. I can’t believe I was ever without you. Shit. I love you so much.”

Louis’ breath hitches, half because of Harry’s words (what a sappy fucker) and half because his fingers have definitely found his prostate. Louis thinks he might want to cry, just a bit. “Yeah,” he pants out, moaning softly. “Fuck. I m-missed you too, Hazza.”

“You almost done over there?” Harry’s voice is thick with lust, so low and gravely, and Louis feels weak in the knees just hearing it.

“Fuck,” he breathes out. “Yeah.”

He turns to look at Harry, and Harry just grins, winking at him. “Come here, babe. I need you on me.”

“Stop being gross,” Louis frowns at him. “Just stop talking.”

Harry laughs, his face soft, but he doesn’t try to speak again, which Louis takes as a victory.

“You’re being so good, baby,” Louis murmurs, smirking as he hears Harry’s breath hitch. “Mmm, there we go. You’re so good for me aren’t you?”

“I--”

Louis clicks his tongue, smacking Harry’s thigh lightly. “Didn’t I tell you not to talk?”

That shuts Harry up really quickly.

Giggling to himself, Louis moves languidly, smirking at Harry. “You’re trying so hard to be good for me, aren’t you? It’s okay, baby. I know.”

Harry makes a weird whimpering noise which Louis finds far too endearing, but other than that he stays silent, so Louis deems it time to reward him. Without much warning, he opens the condom he grabbed and rolls it teasingly down Harry’s length. Then, he pours some line on his fingers and lets his fingers roam around. He lazily strokes at Harry with one hand, his other hand moving further downwards to put pressure against Harry’s hole.

When Harry’s reached the point of whimpering mess, his arms shaking and straining a bit as he fights to keep his grip on the headboard, Louis lets up. He swings his leg over Harry’s hip so he’s straddling him and settles down comfortably.

Fuck, he’d missed this so much.

“Baby boy,” Louis breathes out softly. He’s being sappy as fuck right now, but he can’t help it. He’s spent so many years craving the taste of Harry’s lips and the softness of Harry’s skin and now that he finally has it back he isn’t entirely sure he knows how to cope. He grips at Harry’s hips, sort of hoping that they’ll bruise if he keeps holding on tightly enough because then Harry will have a reminder of this for days, no matter what, and it’s the most comforting thought Louis’ had in a long time. “I missed you so much. Fuck. You’re being so good. So lovely. I love you so much, babe.”

Harry’s got this kind of crazed look in his eyes, and Louis breathes out a soft sigh. “You can talk, baby,” he allows, and Harry’s shoulders relax a bit.

“Lou,” he whispers and his face is so soft. Louis wants to melt, but he also really doesn’t want to get distracted from the fantastic sex he’s about to have, so he stays upright. His hands shake a bit as he trails them up Harry’s hips, but it’s okay. He’s okay, really, for what feels like the first time in a long time. “I love you too, starlight. You know I do. Now please. Please. I need you, babe. Fuck.”

Louis doesn’t need any more encouragement before he moves, adjusting himself accordingly and sinks down on Harry slowly. When he’s finally settled on top of Harry’s hips with Harry inside of him, he gasps softly, circling his hips over a litany of moans and fuck yes, Lou-s from Harry.

“Fuck,” Louis gasps. He lifts himself up slowly before dropping back down, enjoying the slow pace that’s got Harry whining above him. “You feel so good, Hazza.”

A soft laugh is huffed from Harry, but it breaks off into soft groans when Louis starts bouncing, dragging himself up and down in slow motions. “Not as good as you feel, I promise.”

“Mm,” Louis agrees quietly. “Thank you, baby boy.”

He pauses for a moment, settled in the v of Harry’s hips, and inhales softly. Harry looks so fond and submissive underneath him, and Louis’ shaking with need, but, for that split second, all he wants to do is kiss Harry senseless. Louis figures the rest of the world could probably disappear in this moment, and he wouldn’t even notice so long as he gets to kiss Harry.

“Kiss me.”

Harry looks up, a bit startled, but shifts his hips. Louis gasps at the feeling that movement causes, but he doesn’t move much, just slumps forwards a bit. Harry leans up, his arms straining as he refuses to let go of the headboard, and captures Louis’ lips with his own.

He tastes like sweat and a hint of citrus, and Louis doesn’t know how he ever gave this up. He can’t even fathom how it happened, in this moment.

His hands are shaking as he trails them through Harry’s curls and breathes out a soft, “yes.”

“You’re so fucking hot,” Harry groans, and the words startle a laugh out of Louis.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Louis breathes out. He taps at Harry’s hip. “Now why don’t you lay back down so you don’t hurt yourself and I can get on with making us both feel good.”

He proves his point by circling his hips around and Harry’s groaning again, slumping back against the bed. Louis continues his movements, just watching Harry’s face as his eyes flutter closed and he moans. He looks absolutely obscene, his curls a mess around his head, arms straining, his full lips parted. Louis feels a bit weak just looking at him, but he manages to gather himself.

Louis quirks an eyebrow, smirking a bit, as Harry adjusts his arms without letting go of the frame of the headboard. “That’s my good boy,” he praises softly, giggling to himself as Harry whimpers.

“Fuck,” Louis continues breathily as he picks up the pace again, bouncing up and down, his legs straining with the effort of it all. It’s a good strain, though, one that Louis has missed immensely over the past few months, so he moves with it, pushing himself faster. “You feel so fucking good, baby boy. Holy shit.”

They spend the next few minutes engaging in a thrilling battle of who can moan the loudest. Louis would like to think he’s the winner, but, at this point, he’s far gone enough that it doesn’t even matter. His bounces increase in pace, and Louis steadies himself with one hand against Harry’s hip, reaching the other down to stroke himself quickly.

“Fuck,” he pants out. He sounds wrecked, and Louis really wouldn’t have it any other way. “Harry. S-Sweetheart. Baby boy. I n-need you to come for me. Can you d-do that, baby?”

Harry twitches, his arms straining even more. “Anything for you, Lou,” he offers, his voice low and gravelly.

It doesn’t take more than a few bounces before Harry’s letting out a shout, shaking with the force of his orgasm, and Louis pitches forwards, trying to keep moving even as Harry shakes and squirms around all over the place.

“Shit, yes,” Harry moans. He looks so dazed and far gone, and it’s absolutely fucking beautiful. “You’re so amazing. I love you, Louis. So fucking much.”

And, okay, if Harry being a sap is what finally pushes Louis over the edge then nobody really has to know. It’s not like he’ll ever admit to it, either.

Louis slumps out against Harry’s chest, panting against his sweaty skin. “That was so good.”

“It was amazing,” Harry agrees dazedly. “You’re so amazing.”

Distractedly, Louis runs his hands up Harry’s sides, pressing a few soft kisses to his chest and neck. “You’re a fucking sap, Styles.”

Harry laughs, low and exhausted, and then pulls Louis to his chest, placing them in a better position. “Let’s get some sleep,” Harry finally offers.

Louis is too exhausted to even attempt to argue.

And, this time, when they fall asleep curled around each other, Louis feels no dread. Instead, he just feels warm and peaceful, and he’s almost certain that he’s never fallen asleep as quickly as he does in Harry’s arms, that night.

_. . ._

Harry has yet to leave his house, and Louis has yet to see a problem with that.

He doesn’t have work, of course, as it’s summer, so Louis sees absolutely no problem in making the best of his Monday morning lounging around the house with Harry after an incredible sex marathon Sunday. Or, well, _he_ thought it was incredible, and that’s enough for him.

“I think I might have missed your fry up more than I missed you,” Louis drawls, turning to look at Harry with a smirk.

“I’m sure,” Harry agrees blandly, rolling his eyes a bit.

Louis swings his feet so they hit against the wood doors of his kitchen counter and sighs. “Okay, fuck. I missed you more than anything.”

The honesty seems to throw Harry a bit, because he falters, but he quickly recovers, smiling ever so softly at Louis, his eyes bright. “I know. I missed you too, Lou. Really. I was a proper mess and everything.”

Louis giggles into his mug of tea. He’s about to assure Harry that he was a proper mess as well, when he hears a knock at his door and he frowns, blinking slowly.

“Were you expecting someone?” Harry asks curiously. Curls are slipping out of his messy bun, and he’s got his hands on his hips, spatula held within his grasp as he cocks his hips slightly to the side. He’s beautiful, so so beautiful, and Louis’ so thrown by it that he doesn’t even process Harry’s question for a very long moment.

He blinks slowly. “Oh. Um. It should just be my mum with, er... Harmony?”

“Oh. _Oh._ ” Harry swallows. “Um. Do you want me to go, then, or should I stick around?”

“Stay,” Louis breathes out. He slips down off the counter and pats Harry’s hip as he walks by. “I’m sure she’d love to meet you, Hazza.”

“I still can’t believe you named her Harmony,” Harry scoffs, finally setting the spatula down on the table. “ You idiot.”

Louis clicks his tongue nervously, shrugging a bit. “It felt wrong to name her anything else, I guess.” He turns to look at Harry, brushing his fringe out of his eyes. “Stay here while I go answer the door, yeah? I... I don’t think I want to try and explain everything to my mum right now.”

“Oh?” Harry snickers. He’s got his smug look on, and Louis narrows his eyes. “You too knackered to put that much effort in? Did I tire you out?”

“I fucking hate you,” Louis sighs. And-- that's a lie and Harry knows it's a lie, but Louis is still going to stand by the statement. He rolls his eyes and glances up at Harry. “Stay,” he orders again, just to make sure Harry listens, before making his way to the front door and opening it.

Before he can even greet his mum hello, he’s got an armful of squealing little girl, and Louis laughs into Harmony’s hair, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “You okay there, little love? I missed you.”

Harmony doesn’t even bother to respond, just clings to him and hums softly. Louis laughs, shifting so he can pick her up, and turns to look at his mum, who’s still standing in the doorway. “Hey, mum.” He moves, kissing her cheek softly. “Thank you for taking her for the weekend. I appreciate it.”

Johannah smirks at him as she ruffles Harmony’s hair. “I see you made good use of your time off, then.”

“I... I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he offers, ignoring Johannah’s smirk and the fact that there are probably a million hickeys on his neck after yesterday, so she definitely knows what he’s been up to. Louis is going to live in denial and pretend she doesn’t, though. He coughs lightly. “Anyways. Thank you, mum. I’ll talk to you later. Don’t want to keep Dan waiting, yeah?”

“Right.” She’s smirking at him, Louis’ well aware of it, but he pointedly ignores it. He’s not going to tell his mother about his sexual exploits, nor is he about to tell her that Harry Styles, his Ex-Boyfriend That Broke My Heart and World Famous Popstar Sensation, is currently sitting in his kitchen making pancakes after their weekend long sex marathon.

Yeah, he doesn’t think that would go over well.

“ _Goodbye_ , mum. I love you.”

Johannah softens just a bit, wrapping Louis and Harmony up in a quick hug and kissing both of their foreheads before offering her goodbyes and making her way back to her car.

Louis bumps the door shut with his hip and turns his attention to Harmony, who’s already managed to bundle herself up into his arms. “Hey, love,” he coos softly, poking her nose just to make her squeal and giggle. “Aw, Harm. What do you think you’re doing, Miss?”

Harmony just reaches up and yanks at his hair. Louis whines as she offers, “Papa! Hi.” Okay, yeah. He forgives her. After two seconds. Then again, it’s kind of hard not to. She’s just that cute, and Louis kind of melts whenever he’s around her. “Hey. I missed you, baby.” He smiles, running his fingers through her hair, brushing at it lightly. “So.” Louis coughs and peers down at his daughter. “I have someone I want you to meet, Harmony. And he’s, uh. Very important to me. So behave, yeah?”

“No,” Harmony insists, pouting at him.

Louis is about to come up with a brilliant retort to fight back against his two year old when they finally enter the kitchen and are greeted by the sight of Harry singing Whitney Houston, whirling around dramatically and using his spatula as a microphone.

A laugh splutters out of him before he can stop it. “You’re a dork.”

Harry turns dramatically once more and points the spatula at him. He’s beaming, and Louis kind of just wants to kiss him. “Sing, Lou.”

“Nope.” He pops the ‘p’ with a purse of his lips. “You better have pancakes ready, Haz. I think Miss Harmony here is quite hungry. And she loves her some blueberry pancakes.”

“Blueberry?” Harry turns to look at Harmony, waving the spatula around. He looks a bit crazed, but he’s also grinning, so Louis just rolls his eyes. “Blueberry pancakes are pretty good. I like banana the best, though.”

Louis rolls his eyes, settling down in a chair with Harmony on his lap. “Of course you do.”

“Stop being rude,” Harry scolds, but he’s fighting laughter, and Louis feels a smile twitch at his lips in response. “I made you your weird jaffa cake pancakes, so you can just be quiet and deal with my love of bananas.”

“You...” Louis may or may not be gaping at Harry like an idiot. “You remembered?”

And this is possibly a very unromantic moment, because Harmony is squirming in his arms and tugging at his hair and Harry is honestly covered in flour and chocolate-- Louis has no idea how that happened, but he doesn't know if he wants to know-- and Louis is exhausted and about to fall off of his chair, but his heart is also kind of swelling with love for both and Harry and Harmony, so it doesn’t really matter.

Harry’s just staring at him, his lips twisted into a frown. “Of course I remembered,” he replies. “I could never forget, Lou.”

Louis is not getting emotional about pancakes. Absolutely not.

Harry places the plate in front of him, and Louis maybe sniffles. Just a little bit. Because he has control of his emotions, obviously.

Okay. He’s a little bit emotional about pancakes.

Harmony has finally stopped pulling at his hair and turns around to stare at Harry. She blinks slowly, shifting in Louis’ arms and then offers, “Haree?”

“Yes!” Louis grins, poking at his daughter’s nose. “I thought you might remember him. He came by a couple weeks ago, yeah? When we were making cookies.”

Harmony seems rather excited by the idea of cookies, and Louis silently curses his poor decision making.

As if he’s noticed Louis’ struggle, Harry swoops in with another plate of pancakes, placing the smaller portion in front of Harmony.“Blueberry pancakes for the little miss.”

“Thanks,” Louis offers. He stretches a hand out, then, reaching for Harry. “Come sit down, babe. I want to have a cute little family breakfast with you and my daughter before we’re subjected to watching every animated movie in existence.”

Harry doesn’t even falter at Louis’ use of the word family, which makes his heart feel a bit warm. Harry must want exactly what Louis does, then. He’s allowed to feel pleased about that, right?

Instead, Harry just grabs Louis’ hand, letting their linked fingers drop to the table, and settles down with his own plate of pancakes. Louis is fairly certain that their hands are atop some sticky mess that’s been left on his poor table, but he decides not to bring it up. He doesn’t really want to move.

“Do you have Anastasia?” Harry asks a few minutes later around a mouthful of food. “If we’re going to watch animated movies, then we have to watch the best one of all time.”

Louis scoffs and mutters, “You’re such an idiot.”

He’s absolutely endeared by it.

Harmony tugs at his hair, finally looking up from her pancakes and declares, “Anstasa.”

Louis is maybe melting, just a little bit. “Yeah, okay,” he agrees softly, rolling his eyes as Harry whoops triumphantly. “We can watch Anastasia. Just finish up your pancakes, little love. Harry makes great pancakes, doesn’t he?”

“Yes,” Harmony agrees, clapping her hands a bit. Louis winces as he thinks about the syrup she must be spreading everywhere. “Yay, Haree. Yummy.”

Harry kind of looks like he’s melted into a puddle, with the way he’s staring at Harmony, all heart eyes and nonsense. It’s not surprising. Everybody falls in love with Harmony. Moronically, hopelessly in love.

“She’s perfect, Lou,” Harry offers quietly.

Louis moves his free hand to brush his hair out of his face, distracting himself from getting all melty and ridiculous as well. “I know,” he agrees, his voice just as soft as he watches Harmony spill syrup on the table. “Everything is perfect, right now.”

Their fingers are still intertwined, Louis notices as Harry’s tighten against his own, and he laughs a bit, unable to stop himself.

“C’mon.” Harry winks at him. “We have a princess movie marathon to conquer.”

Just as they’re getting settled, Anastasia queuing up on the screen, Harry suddenly pulls back a bit and offers, “we have to tell the lads about this eventually.”

Louis stills, turning his head to stare at Harry, his mouth dropping open.

“Yeah, that’s your job, not mine,” he declares.

Harry looks so offended, but when Harmony starts clapping he turns his attention back to the screen, his eyes narrowed. “We’ll talk about this later,” he declares boldly, even though Louis can tell he’s fighting a smile. “Don’t ruin your daughter’s movie day, you butt.”

“Don’t call me a butt,” Louis responds, smacking Harry’s shoulder.

Harmony claps her hands in delight and offers, “butt!”

Harry giggles and offers her a high-five, his eyes all alight with mischief and an impish grin on his face.

It’s going to be a long day.

(And, okay, Louis might have to suffer through four hours of cheesy sing-a-longs and syrup all in his hair and Harmony saying the word butt way too often and Harry thinking it’s fucking hilarious, but he’s got Harmony in his arms and Harry’s arms around him, and everything is just as it’s supposed to be.

So he’s okay.

He’s more than okay, actually. For the first time in years, Louis Tomlinson is happy.

And happy is a pretty nice thing to be.)

_. . ._

_epilogue:_ _four years later_

“You know, I think you’re right,” Harry allows, a soft laughing tumbling from his lips. “This was a crazy idea.”

Louis scoffs quietly, but he smiles into the rim of his mug nonetheless. “I’m always right, Harold. You should fucking know this by now, thanks.”

“I’m so fucking nervous.” Harry didn’t really need to say that out loud, mostly because his nerves are made ridiculously obvious by the fact that he’s currently pacing around their living room, but Louis’ not about to bring that point up to him.

“Trust me,” Louis drawls out, his lips curling into a smirk. “I can tell, baby.”

Harry gives him a half hearted glare, his arms moving to cross over his chest.

Sighing, Louis takes a long sip of his tea and pulls himself out of his chair. He grabs Harry in an effort to get him to stop pacing, but all he really accomplishes is ending up clinging to him like a koala bear-- one that actually does something other than eat and sleep, though-- as Harry grabs him by the waist and makes them pace together.

“You’re being dumb, Hazza. Everything will be _fine._ ”

“I’m just so nervous,” Harry whispers, and he looks like he’s kind of deranged now, his hair sticking up at odd angles and his panic blatantly obvious.

Louis shifts, wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist and placing his feet on top of Harry’s so that Harry doesn’t have to support all of his weight. He doesn’t even complain about the fact that he’s practically being carried around, which really just shows how much he loves his husband. “Everything will be fine,” he soothes. “The house is spotless and you’ve made all sorts of lovely food. Harmony is excited, we’re both excited, and the lads all want to meet him as soon as possible. Everything will be just fine, baby.”

Harry whines. “That doesn’t make me feel any less nervous.” His hands grip at Louis’ waist even more tightly, and Louis sighs, pressing a kiss to his hair. Harry can be such a worrywart for absolutely no reason. He always seems to push things out of proportion.

After all, Louis’ nervous too, but he’s not about to pace a hole in the floor.

A knock sounds at the door, and Harry’s shoulders jerk, leaving Louis stumbling. He accidentally lands his heel on Harry’s toes, which he’s sure doesn’t feel pleasant, but Harry barely even seems to notice. Before Louis can even apologize for the mishap, Harry’s off to the door.

Louis crosses his arms over his chest and watches amusedly as Harry takes a deep breath to calm himself before he opens the door. “Hi,” he hears his husband stutter out, his voice a little squeaky with nerves.

One day, Louis will stop being endeared by every little cute thing Harry Styles does.

Today, evidently, is not that day.

He moves behind Harry, placing a hand lightly against Harry’s waist, and offers his husband and their caseworker at the door a pleasant smile. “Good morning,” he greets easily, smiling politely. “You’re going to have to excuse Harry, here. He’s been a nervous wreck all morning.”

Harry scoffs and turns bright red, but he doesn’t deny it, just shuffles his feet in that way he always does when he’s embarrassed. And, yes, Louis is absolutely endeared again.

“It’s alright,” Amanda offers lightly. “Most people are usually very nervous about this process. It’s completely understandable. Kieran has been excited to see the two of you all morning, though.”

Louis glances down, his eyes finally locking on the small child who’s attempting to hide behind Amanda. “Hey,” he greets easily. “Buddy. Do you want to come inside?”

As Louis talks to him, Kieran seems to perk up a bit. Harry squats down to get at eye level with him, and the boy’s face practically lights up.

“I made a bunch of food, if you’d like anything to eat, Kier.”

Kieran still seems a bit hesitant to move, so Louis offers, “would you feel better if I got Harmony to come down here and spend time with you?”

The statement is taken under deep consideration before Kieran finally replies, “yes please.”

Louis nods quickly, patting Harry’s shoulder before he smiles. “I’ll be right back then.”

He finds Harmony seated on her bed, staring at her stuffed animals, and he pauses, frowning at his daughter. She’s normally not the quiet sort-- not that Louis minds, of course, he’s really not the quiet sort either-- but here she is, sitting completely still.

For a brief second, he wonders if she’s still alive, but then she swings around to look at him, her eyes wide.

“Hi, Papa,” she greets.

Louis moves and settles down next to her on the bed. “You okay there, little love?”

Harmony blinks slowly and then just shrugs. “Sorry,” she offers lightly. Louis can tell she’s trying to be cheerful, even if she’s not entirely feeling it. She’s always been smart for an almost seven year old, so he bets that she’s trying her best not to ruin the mood of today, seeing as Harry has been an excited-nervous wreck all week.

“It’s okay, baby.” Louis shifts and wraps his arm around her before she can stop him. “Tell me what’s wrong, Harm.”

Harmony relaxes into him, sighing, and buries her face in his shoulder. Her tiny hands move to grip at Louis’ upper arms, and he runs a hand through her hair, fingers tugging lightly through the waves of blonde. “I just...” She hesitates. “What if Kieran doesn’t like me, Papa?”

The question startles Louis, because, really, he hadn’t even considered the possibility of that. If he’s being completely honest, he hadn’t even considered the possibility of Harmony being worried about that.

“Well,” Louis starts slowly. “I really don’t think he will, seeing as he’s downstairs right now and he’s refused to come into the house until you’re there with him. He cares a lot about you, Harm, and as long as you’re there for him and are a good big sister, I don’t see why he would ever dislike you.”

He finishes the statement off with a soft poke to Harmony’s nose, and she giggles into her palm, pushing lightly at his shoulder.

Louis’ heart is a fucking puddle on the floor, honestly.

Then again, that may be his own fault for raising the most adorable and lovely daughter in the world.

“Is he really?” Harmony asks as she leans against Louis.

“He is,” Louis replies. “Made me come up here to get you and everything.”

So he might be stretching the truth just a bit, there, but it’s really quite harmless, and it’s entirely worth it to see the way Harmony’s face lights up. She jerks upright, pulling herself off of her bed and grabs Louis’ hand, practically dragging him behind her as she takes off for the stairs.

Harmony drags him to the front door in record time, and Louis manages to stop his momentum by stumbling and practically landing on top of Harry. Harry, thankfully, manages to steady him, but they almost go toppling over. The mess results in Louis pressing soft kisses to Harry’s face, the two of them giggling against each other’s skin.

They pull back from each other to watch Harmony greet Kieran, and it isn’t long before the two of them are giggling and running off into the house.

“Well then,” Amanda says with a laugh. “It looks like you two are all good to go, then.”

Harry’s hand is squeezing at his hip, and Louis just smiles. “We’re all good with paperwork and everything, then?”

Amanda nods easily, offering them a bright smile. Her teeth are kind of unnaturally white, but Louis lets it slide, seeing as that might be a weird thing to point out to someone he barely knows. “I’ll just be back to check in on him every couple of weeks for a bit, and then you’re all good to go.”

“Thank you so much,” Harry says. “Honestly. Thank you for everything.”

Amanda is halfway down their drive when she turns to look at them, waving her hand vaguely. “Just go enjoy your family, you two.”

Harry seems to think that this is sound advice, because he drags Louis closer to him, hooking his chin over Louis’ shoulder to wave goodbye to Amanda before he shuts the door. Louis hums quietly and leans back against him. Harry’s warm, just like always, and Louis could maybe fall asleep like this. He didn’t get much sleep last night, too nervous to actually fall asleep.

A crash sounds from the kitchen, and Louis lets out a groan, laughing into Harry’s neck. “Who do you want to bet caused that?” He questions.

Harry’s laughter is pressed into Louis’ hair. “Probably Harm. You named her that for a reason, right?”

That smug son of a bitch.

Louis smacks him, rolling his eyes. “Don’t be cocky now, Harold. You know exactly why I named her Harmony.”

“Yeah.” Harry throws his head back, his smile wide, and with the way the soft morning sunlight is hitting his face, Louis thinks that Harry might be at his most beautiful, in this very moment. “You named her Harmony because I told you for years that that was what I wanted our first daughter to be named, and you’re a giant fucking sap, aren’t you, Louis Tomlinson?”

Louis shifts, placing his hands on his hips. “Maybe,” he agrees. “You love me anyways.”

“Yeah.” Harry’s face softens, and he tilts his head down to look at Louis. His curls spill all over in the process, and he’s so lovely that Louis might cry. “I do. I love you more than anything in the world.”

If Louis melts because of that statement, nobody else will ever need to know. It’s not like anyone other than Harry is there to witness his downfall anyways.

They’re drawn to the kitchen when another loud crash emerges. Harry grabs his hand to drag him along, but they don’t get very far before Louis jerks them to a stop. He presses a deep kiss to Harry’s lips and whispers against them, “I love you too, Harry Tomlinson. More than anything in the world. I have for a long time, and I think I always will.”

Harry laughs in response, and gives Louis another kiss as a reward. “Do you ever think about how lucky we are that we ran into each other at that club?”

Humming a bit, Louis shrugs.

“You know,” he finally offers, “I think we would have found our way back to each other no matter what.”

Some things were just meant to be, and Louis has no doubt that he and Harry are one of those few things. They’ve made it through so much, and, really, Louis has no doubt they’ll make it through anything else life throws at them.

Except for maybe the mess that their two children have made in their kitchen.

They might not survive that.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to everyone for all the comments and kudos and bookmarks so far, you all are amazing! <3
> 
> Aaaand there's a reboggable post [here](http://nauticalallusions.tumblr.com/post/144137359783/title-a-fallen-star-that-shines-no-more-author) if you want to hit that up, and I'm also on tumblr as [nauticalallusions](http://nauticalallusions.tumblr.com) if you want to pop over and say hi and chat or anything! :')


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